The Dream
by kdoc27
Summary: This is after the break-up.Why is Dylan having these terrible dreams,and can he and Marco find a way to make them stop?
1. Chapter 1

Dylan turned off the ignition and leaned his head against the steering wheel, sighing deeply.'Screw it!' He thought,everything could stay in the car. He was ready for his test tomorrow, and why take the hockey gear out to just have to put it right back for the game. Locker-room showers just didn't always do it. He still felt drained. The stairs looked like they went up forever. Lock car. Pocket keys."Sh...!"Put up top. Stairs mastered. Fit-more like fight-key into lock. SLAM, and lock door.

The place smells like an Italian restaurant. Smiling, he takes a deep breath, leans against the door,closing his eyes. "Marco!" " In here!" He is adjusting the flame to its lowest setting. He checks his watch as he turns. Dylan hugs him,lifting him from the floor.

Marco laughs..."Glad to see you too babe.!" Dylan sets him down,but holds on to him, kissing his forehead. "You have no idea!" He kisses first one cheek, the other, slides his lips up the side of his neck. Trailing his tongue back down the same line,nipping him lightly,then soothing the sting of it with slow swirls of tongue. Marco shivers, hands moving on Dylan's back.

"Dylan!" "Mmmm"Dylan replies. Marco tries to back away. Tries to catch his breath. "Dylan...dinner..." "Tastes Great!" Dylan replies,going to work on the other side of his lovers neck. Marco closes his eyes, trying to remember how to breathe...And how did his hands get under Dylan's shirt. 'So warm, so smooth',he thinks. He dreams of this...miles of chest...

The timer on the oven goes off . Dylan breaths out an exasperated sigh,starts to pull back. He can feel the angry tension building in his shoulders, tightening his face...But Marco's hands just slide down to his waist and hold on. Opening his eyes, he looks down into his lovers smiling face.

He smiles back,but looks puzzled. " Hold onto me ...just like that"...Marco turns in the circle of his boyfriends arms. Holding the taller boy's hands in place with one of his own,he turns off the oven,steps to the counter for the oven mitt, holding Dylan against him as if they were dancing.

When he bends to take the bread out,Dylan bends with him,pressing himself firmly against the small firm swell of Marco's body. Marco moved...sliding down, then back up,causing Dylan to draw in a quick breath. Standing,turning back to face his lover...One hand goes under Dylan's shirt, the other trails down to caress the now well-known shape there. Now it is Dylan's turn to shiver...to whisper..."Marco..."

Of course the phone rings...

"No." Dylan says.

This 'no' is simple...final..No amount of argument will change it,or his mind.

When he bends , throwing Marco over one shoulder, the boy starts to laugh.

They stop by the phone on the wall only to turn the ringer off.

Marco is still laughing when Dylan tosses him onto the bed,and pulls his shirt off.

He does it in that one sweet move;just the way Marco loves to watch him do it.

That look...Seeing this perfect boy who is HIS lover: looking at him that way...

He joins him on the bed. ...And they are in each others arms. The kisses are long...clinging...so sweet... Dylan vows to himself;he will never let him go again...and he is lying beside him, above him...beneath him...Screaming his name into the pillow...

The sound of the door opening wakes him. Dylan opens his eyes. The hair on the pillow next to him is...red-gold? Looking back over his shoulder,he sees Marco, outside the door. Staring at him furiously, he slams the door.

"Marco!" That pained shout brings him truly awake. Dylan's heart is beating so hard he can barely breath. "Yeah." Marco comes in wearing one of Dylan's hockey shirts. The look of shocked,pleading on his lovers face says it all.

Marco goes to him ;climbing onto the bed so he can cradle him in his arms. He knows that some version of The Dream has returned to haunt them. Like all the road time between schools wasn't hard enough on both of them; a couple of weeks after they got back together, Dylan started having 'THE DREAM"!

There were different versions of it but they all involved Marco leaving him...again.


	2. Chapter 2

The day Marco got to the apartment and one of Dylan's friends was leaving with a foam plate full of wings and finger-sandwiches should've been a clue. "Hey man, can't wait till you move in ! gonna be some serious fridg-raids!" Dave said all this round a chicken-wing. "Oh yeah?" Marco asked giving him a questioning look,while heading to the bedroom to put his bags away."Yeah, he says you're a great cook, and he's been practicing a lot lately. 'Dylan,...learning to cook?' Marco smiled inwardly at this thought. Wriggling his eyebrows, Dave gave him a one handed thumbs up. Licking mayo off said thumb, on his way out. Marco locked the door behind him and took the bag of groceries he'd brought to cook tomorrow into the kitchen.  
Dylan was shaking his head disgustedly at something in a baking pan. Marco set the bag down, going over to stand next to him said "Aw, babe...it can't be that bad." Dylan lifted the pan. Turned it over. Held it there. Nothing fell off. "Oooo!" Marco said, trying not to laugh. Dylan mock-frowned at him, "Don't you dare laugh!" he growled. Marco bit his lips trying to hold it. He tried licking his lips, swallowing, even looking around the room, but what finally stopped all thought of laughter was the gentle kiss Dylan began then intensified. Wrapping one arm around him, the other going to the back of his head; holding him in place so his tongue could explore his mouth...slowly...completely... Who needed air ..?

There were more surprises in the bedroom... Marco thought about asking where he got such ideas, but...Dylan was doing things... and whispering things...There were things to be rubbed playfully on...only to be kissed or licked off later... This he eventually found out was Dylan's reaction to the dream he had about a French exchange student who of course lured his Marco from him with gourmet cooking and exotic sex! Marco didn't think his boyfriend would ever make a gourmet meal...safely. But as for the other...Nightmares with benefits? Hmmm. At least both would be too lost in each other to dream anything for a few days...  
A couple of weeks later Dylan is at his door...out of the blue...no call first...nothing. Thank god it is his parents' movie-night. There are bags under his lovers blood-shot eyes. "Dyl, what?" "You." Dylan manages to choke out. "I had to ..." He is breathing raggedly, and shaking all over! " I just needed to see you." He nearly crushes the smaller boy in his arms, pressing his face into his hair and breathing deeply. He relaxes this too tight grip, only to gently take hold of Marcos face and stare at him; like he is trying to memorize each feature. He sees the concern there at last, starts to speak, stops. Pulls Marco against him. Not crushing now, only holding gently, running his fingers through his hair. Marcos hands are rubbing his back under the jacket. Dylan is calming, his breathing almost normal again. His heart, which had been pounding as if it would beat a hole in his chest is slowing. He looks down into the face he loves more than his own. This boy. This miracle is smiling ... up... at Him! The kiss he bends to place on those perfect lips is very gentle...and very sweet. "Marco!" He whispers, smiling back . The next kiss is longer...tasting...savoring... "I love you, I love you so much..." He is whispering it over and over into that dark, so soft hair... In the rush of Italian that Marco is murmuring into his chest, the only words he understands are "Mi amore!" His head spins with happiness, while he shivers with desire. When Marco takes his hand, tries to lead him to the stairs, he stops him. Lifting him in his arms, he carries him over to the couch. "Maybe your dad won't kill us if we fall asleep here." He says. Smirking, Marco says "Now who's chicken?" Still smiling, eyes no longer blood-shot, but sparkling. "For wanting to live to do this?" He slides that sweet sexy body down his own. "And this...?" This kiss completely melts Marcos heart, ends all thought of anything but the joy of being right where he is.

They are soon stretched out on the couch. The feel of this... this perfect fit...that look... this smile that is his alone... He would walk through fire to keep this. Marco stretched up for a quick brush of lips, then sliding his hand under Dylan's shirt, laid his head where it fit perfectly as far as both were concerned, on the strong warm shoulder. Time was; Dylan would've "played" this for all it was worth; finding a way to push it into sex. That would've been the only thing really on his mind...but... Marco had changed everything...his whole life. There could be no one else...ever. He knew that now. There was no way he would ever deserve him, but as long as Marco wanted him...he'd be there. Some- how they would make it work.

These days he had come to understand that Marco needed to know;scratch that, needed to be told; what was on his mind(what he was FEELING). He swallowed, took a quick breath; "I could stay...just like this ...forever..." It came out almost a whisper... Marco loved it, felt warm, and safe and glowing with happiness; he rubbed his face against 'his' place on that shoulder. The hand under the shirt rubbing Dylan's chest. Dylan, eyes closed, blissfully happy, tightened his arms round the younger boy. This 'Express Your Feelings' stuff had its benefits. Marco was learning that he didn't have to "Say' everything, and how not to be hurt if Dylan didn't always listen to 'everything' he said.

One of his(Marco's) conditions of them getting back together had been that they do couples counseling. With a priest...could you just die? But to Dylan's COMPLETE surprise, it really worked! It even improved their sex life! Sometimes Marco would join him in the shower; or meet him in what would soon be 'their' apartment, in just a towel, or (Thank You God!) walk around in nothing but one of Dylan's hockey shirts! Dylan wasn't about to talk to the priest about this, but he thought Marco might. What that thought did to his insides was just...wrong! He shuddered just thinking about it. Marco, feeling the that shudder, kissed the hollow of his lovers throat, and rubbed his chest... gently...soothingly. Dylan rubbed Marco's back, sighing contentedly.  
Mrs Del Rossi smiled at the sight of them asleep in each others arms. Her baby, so like herself, only really smart; as she considered his father. Mr. Del Rossi stomped up the stairs. His lips tight with anger, disgust,...and pain.


	3. Chapter 3

The Dream part 3 **kdoc27**

Rosalia Del Rossi's smile faded as she watched her husband stomp up the stairs. She knew this display meant  
that his temper was close to being unleashed, she just didn't know how...

Carmine Alfredo Del Rossi was mostly a cheerful, easy-going guy. A one of the boys type : if it broke, he could usually fix it- especially if it had a motor. If it was a sport he either could or had played it, or enjoyed watching it. He loved his pasta, his cigars after dinner,his beer with the boys, and his wine. Still he rarely drank too much. He loved his family and was very proud of his only son...

Rosalia was begining to think maybe he loved the Marco of his plans and dreams more than the real one... There had been no divorces in either family, but nothing was going to hurt her little angel. Carmine had refused to talk about it, even to her...

Marco had told his father one night at dinner...Rosalia, trying to help to put his father in a more receptive mood, had made some of his favorite things ... There were two special bottles of wine. The meal had begun with small sandwiches of brown bread and Parmigiano-Reggiano , with either culatello or prosciutto. There was the special blended balsamic vinegar and olive oil to dip the sandwiches in. There was a bottle of Malvasia Secco to wash them down with. The bottle of Lambrusco was served with the tortellini in brodo(broth) and the large salad that was more for herself and Marco as her husband often called it rabbit-food! They never made it to the ice cream she had made for dessert...

Mr. Del Rossi had noticed the somewhat furtive glances between mother and son. Twirling his second glass of Lambrusco, seeming to inspect the dark red liquid closely, he said," Alright, out with it!" Rosalia shrugged, giving Marco a half-smile and a nod. Seeing all this, his father asked laughingly, "What the matter... you get a 'c' or something?" His wife seemed to be watching him a little too carefully...Marco looked... a little sad...but ..determined... Finally, he put down his glass, and resting his hands on the table simply waited.

Squaring his shoulders, but looking apologetic at the same time, Marco looked him in the eye as he said, " Pop, I...I'm gay..." Mr. Del Rossi drew in a shocked breath,his mouth dropping open; hands clenching into fists. " And Dylan isn't just my friend...He's my boyfriend." Carmine stared incredulously,... first at his son,... then his wife, both wore almost identical pleading expressions...

In that moment a lot of things fell into place in his mind...The quick glances that mother son gave each other...He realized this had been going on for a while. The long explanations when he was just going to hang out with 'his buddy', the ...older,... king of the hockey team.. 'buddy'. The way Rosalia didn't invite girls over for their son to meet, or even talk about it ...anymore... It occurred to him now that when he said something about it Marco got quiet, and she changed the subject...He had seen them at the mall together...The older boy seeming more like a bodyguard than a friend...

His face paled... His fists trembled... He seemed to be having trouble catching his breath... Mother and son glanced at each other, then leaning towards him, looking concerned, "Pop?" Marco started to ask; when one of those fists pounded the table, silencing him. Mr. Del Rossi stared unseeingly at his plate... Taking the napkin from his collar, he flung it on the table... The Carmine Del Rossi who left the table and silently went up the stairs, seemed like a much older man.

He had not looked his son in the eye since that night; had barely spoken to him.

So when he came home that night to find ...his son...sprawled on top of another man...in a mans arms...asleep...  
Stomping up the stairs he fought to loosen his tie... That was what was choking him...The damn tie...If he could just get it off...he'd be able to breath...just fine... The bedroom door banged against the wall at the force of his shove...Marco and Dylan woke at the thunderous sound of Mr. Del Rossi going up the stairs. His mother gestured to them not to worry about it. She was still smiling sadly when a much louder thud was heard from up stairs..

Marco, sitting between Dylan and his mom; an arm around her with one of Dylans' hands clenched in his other hand;thought his world was flying apart! Dylan had one arm around him. The strength that flowed from that touch seemed to be the only thing keeping him sane and half together.

Mrs. Del Rossi was too shocked to think about anything... She had first frowned at the loud thud and sounds of from the direction of their bedroom. Hurrying up the stairs and to the room, finding Carmine unconscious; bleeding from a gash on his head,.Heading for the adjoining bathroom,she got a towel, dampening it and coming back to kneel beside him. Feeling only slightly concerned, and really a little annoyed at first; she began to gently dab at the thick liquid on his face...Not noticing the tight knot he'd made of his tie...

Disentangling themselves, and coming fully awake, neither boy spoke; Dylan giving his boyfriend a questioning lifted eyebrow. Marco stared into his eyes, smiling slightly before glancing towards his parents' room. Dylan pulled him into a tight, fiercely delighted hug. Marco returned the hug, but with a little less enthusiasm. The tension in his shoulders, the sigh that was almost a whimper broke Dylans' heart. So his father was being his same old homophobic self. Big surprise. He tightened his grip on the wonderful boy in his arms; wishing he could, no swearing he would protect him if his father did anything more physical than take his disapproval out on the house and furniture.

Marco squeezed him back...The next sigh had a smile in it. It really was amazing how much Dylans' touch could calm him...make things better almost instantly! "He's been kinda not speaking to me since I told him, and I think maybe telling him about us, sorta made it worse."

The older boys' eyebrows shot up, and his mouth fell open in shock! When he could breathe again, he grabbed his young lover, holding him by the shoulders and just staring and grinning, and kissing his face; pulling back to look at him and then kissing him some more. Dylans' reaction delighted Marco.

Delighted wasn't the word... The wild ecstatic happiness that flared through Dylan! He thought his heart might explode from joy! Marco had finally told his FATHER!  
That was all that had been missing; all that kept them from being totally open about their relationship.  
Now the whole world could know! They wouldn't need to sneak around{any where the parents(read 'The DAD') might show up} or worry about being too 'affectionate'; too much together.

With Dylan away at university they weren't here that much, and the older boys' family knew and loved Marco already. Still it would be nice, more than that ; just so much easier to be able to go any where they wanted and not need to be careful. Mrs. Del Rossi had been for this from the beginning, she just wanted to see her only child happy.

"Marco!"  
The strangled shout froze both boys.  
Then they were running up the stairs, the alarm in Mrs. Del Rossi's voice having stopped any thought other than getting to her as fast as possible!

They reached the doorway together.  
Marcos' parents seemed to be fighting; Carmine clawing at her, Rosalia fending off blows, but reaching for his throat!

Marco, who had never seen his parents so much as raise a hand to each other was too shocked to do anything at this sight; the hand he stretched out towards Dylan was pure reflex. He wouldn't even remember it until much later.

Dylans' answering grip was just there, suddenly; steadying him. loosening the paralysis that gripped him.  
Without a glance at each other, both wearing the same determined expressions, they separated the two struggling adults.

Marco pulled his mother back from his fathers clawing hands.  
Dylan got his fingers under Carmines tie and yanked; loosening it enough so it wasn't choking him anymore.

Mr. Del Rossi fell back coughing and gaging; head throbbing, shaking,still breathless, he looked up at Dylan. Tried to say something...  
Suddenly his body was shivering all over, then it just went limp as he passed out.

Dylan was already on the phone with the 911 operator when the blood began to seep from Carmines nose...

Now here they sat...waiting!

Like any emergency room; there were a lot of people in scrubs of different colors going quickly from place to place and room to room, some with charts, some with medications on carts. It's hard to pick out the doctors or nurses from the rest of them.

You just sit. Waiting for someone to call your name. Most wives and mothers don't have much patience with this. At least not for long...

Rosalia had been just staring into space. When Marco felt the hand he was holding grip his more firmly he looked at his mother. She was sitting up straighter, a look of determination on her face.

Glancing at her wrist watch, she nodded to herself once; squeezing Marcos' hand, then patting it she turned to them. "Marco, you stay here with Dylan, I'll be back." "Ma?" Marco started, not really sure what he meant to say. She cut him off with a wave of her hand. "Its been long enough, I can have a look at him, and they Will tell me something!" With that she strode off to find Carmine.

Marco turned to Dylan, then blinked at the almost smirk on his boyfriends' face. Dylan was thinking of how his own mother could be when one of them was in the hospital. She didn't have much time for their 'rules and regulations' either.  
"Dylan?"  
The older boy put an arm round him, pulling him close, holding him there. "She'll be fine, I wouldn't cross her now!" He said glancing down at Marco. That made Marco roll his eyes at him, but he smiled a little too.

"And your dads' gonna be fine too, you'll see."  
"I don't know Dyl, that looked like a pretty serious gash!" Marco replied with a worried frown.

"What if it's worse than it looks?" he asked frowning harder.  
"What if they have to operate, what if "

"Marco!" Dylan said, taking him by the shoulders.  
"Stop! It'll probably just take a few stitches."  
Dylan pulled his anxious boyfriend close; held him there, rubbing his back comfortingly.

By the time Rosalia came back, escorted through the double doors by a nurse, Marco had calmed down some. His head rested on Dylans' shoulder, the older boy holding one of his hands.

They started to get up when they saw her coming towards them, but she motioned for them not to.  
"He's awake and fussing about the stitches he's going to need." She said wryly. "They also want to do some x-rays, and some other kinds of tests."

A rising babble of Italian came to their attention. Rosalia's friend Gina burst into the waiting room.  
She and two other women were speaking and gesturing rapidly as they hurried over, and practically ignoring the boys, began embracing Rosalia; offering to help in any way they could, and asking her what had happened.

Another woman came in, also speaking quickly, and it seemed, to Dylan, bossily, to her husband who was a step or two behind her. Taking in the scene, she gestured for her husband to go join the other men; they were standing a little apart from the women.

This was aunt luccia.  
She went to Marco; pulling him into a tight hug. Looking up at Dylan, she unwrapped an arm from round Marco... "Come on, you too!" she demanded. "You are family now." She stated emphatically.

When she released them, she looked searchingly into Dylan's eyes and nodded once.  
"So, you will take him home now."  
"We'll take care of 'Lia, you take care of him."

To Marco she said, "It will be alright bambino, don't worry!"  
Marco, blushing, opened his mouth to protest the 'bambino' part, but she was already talking to Dylan.

"He'll try to worry himself sick!" "This is not his fault, don't let him!"  
Hugging both of them, and kissing both on the forehead, she went over to join the other women now sitting with Mrs. Del Rossi.


	4. Chapter 5

They said their goodbyes to the men. They'd all been sent outside to smoke; really just get them out of way.  
They all shook hands with Dylan, except for uncle Vitto; he hugged him like Luccia had. Their reactions, well all except Guido, helped put Marco more at ease.

In the car he leaned on Dylans' shoulder, glad to have that strong arm holding him.  
Marco had seen his father have anxiety attacks before, but nothing like this. The shaking had seemed like some kind of seizure.

What if they had shocked him into some kind of heart attack?  
What if it was a stroke?  
What if he died?  
He didn't realize he was trembling, till Dylan pulled over, and stopped the car.  
He looked up, tears running down his face, lips moving, trying to form words...

It broke Dylans' heart, seeing him like this.  
Wishing he just beat-up or murder the thing that dared to do this to his Marco! He did the only thing he could think of that might make Marco feel better at the moment.

Pulling him onto his lap; letting the seat back to give them more room.  
"Let it out baby...it's o.k." He murmured softly. "It'll be alright..."  
"Whatever happens, I swear I'm her for you!"

Marcos' face was pressed tight against his boyfriends' neck.  
The sound of these words and the tight warm grip of Dylans' arms stilled his shaking.  
The racking sobs that were killing Dylans' heart subsided.

With one arm still holding him firmly in place, Dylans' fingers found his hair, began stroking through it.  
Marco felt himself calming beneath that touch, his breathing returning to something less strained, the pain in his throat easing.  
The fist clenching Dylans' shirt opened, pressed against his heart; the beat of it soothing him even more.

The deep sigh Marco breathed against Dylans' tear-warmed neck made the older boy shiver and squeeze Marco even tighter for a moment.

Smiling a little, Marco said, his voice still rough from crying, "Well, not my favorite way to steam-up your windows!"

That surprised a chuckle out of Dylan!  
The love he felt for the boy in his arms rising up and washing over him squeezed at his heart, had him blinking back fresh tears.

Marco felt the change in Dylans' heartbeat against his palm; drew his face down to kiss his cheek.  
Only then did he realize, finding the moisture there, that Dylan had cried with him.

Of course he kissed those tears away...gently...wordlessly...  
Dylans' lips parted...eyes closing ...

Marco kissed his eyelids...his nose...  
When their lips met, Dylan moaned... Marcos' hands were sliding down his chest, when they began easing up under his shirt, Dylan grabbed his wrists, stopping him.

Breathless, feeling like his bones were melting, his body screamming at him to let Marco do whatever he wanted, that he must be loosing his mind, Dylan said, "Del Rossi!"

'God', he thought, 'How did we get from...to..!  
"You're..." He had to stop, gt some kinda grip. When he could speak normally again, he said "Get back over there, seatbelt on!"

Leaning forward, placing light quick kisses where ever he could reach, a now laughing Marco giggled,"But why?"  
"Cause!" Dylan laughed, smirking "If I get that redheads, 'Bambino' arrested...!"

Which of course caused Marco to jerk his hands free and start a tickle-fight.  
Said battle went on till one of them connected with the car horn. 

Amazed that he he's remembered his keys, Marco let them into the house. They straightened up his parents' room, then sat on the sofa to wait for a call from the hospital.  
Dylan pulled Marco into his arms, held him...

Feeling the trembling in him,the hitching of his as he tried to hold back more tears, he tightened his grip.

It was the bloody towel...  
Marco kept seeing it; feeling the cold stickiness of it in his hands.

Dylan had noticed the look on Marco's face; had seen him staring blankly, like he was in a trance...  
He'd taken it from him, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder as he did it.

"It's o.k., a good rinse in some cold water, and it'll come right out, believe me, I've had lots of experience! " He said. "My mom says it's a wonder I'm not covered in scars!"  
This earned him a weak smile, but Marco's eyes were still following the towel as Dylan walked out of the room with it.

Dylan went into the adjoining bathroom to rinse the towel. If the blood didn't come out quickly, he was going to throw it away. No way was he leaving it to soak and have Marco seeing it again.

Marco washed his hands in the bathroom down the hall.  
He washed them over and over, making sure all the blood was gone.

He was gone for so long, Dylan went looking for him.  
When Dylan got to the bathroom door, Marco was on his knees, fingers laced beneath his bowed head.  
Dylan backed away quietly, leaning against the wall to wait...

Knowing talking wouldn't help now he did the only thing he knew would take his mind in another direction...

Pulling him onto his lap he started kissing his face; gentle pecks on nose, cheeks,holding his face so he couldn't turn away...

Every time Marco tried to speak he kissed his mouth...  
Each gentle kiss a little longer, a little more compelling...

Marco was looking into his eyes now, not even trying to say anything, his trembling had eased again. When Dylan's lips moved to his neck; sliding down one side, then up the other, to find and tease 'that spot', just under his jaw...Marco's eyes closed, and he trembled for a different reason.

"I know what you're doing." He whispered,bitting his lip at the sensations his boyfriends lips and tongue were sending flashing through him...  
"I know baby, but just let me...just let go ..." The older boy whispered against his neck. "Just let me make it all go away for a little while...o.k?"

Glistening blue diamonds pleaded with glistening chocolate as Dylan began to unbutton his shirt...  
"I love you...I love you...I don't want you to be afraid...I don't want you to worry..." Dylan was whispering...

Unable to say what he meant, he simply captured Marco's lips;putting everything he had, his whole soul into that kiss...

And Marco let go...  
Surrendering to the feel of the large warm hands on his body, the warm lips pressed so sweetly, so perfectly to his own.

And somehow it was ...different.

No, loosing himself in Dylan's kisses wasn't anything new..  
But this...  
This was like somebody flipped a switch, and everything else ...just went away...

There was only... them  
They had to still be on the couch, but all Marco was aware of was the touch of Dylan's hands and lips.  
They could've been anywhere...

The warm hands moved slowly, caressing gently, soothingly...  
The lips that clung so sweetly s they moved over his face...

And Marco was soothed, calmed, by the love, the caring that was so unmistakably clear in each kiss, every touch...

A soft sighing moan parted Marco's lips as he sank/rose? further into this...  
It was a cool-blue place with a blush of desire found the edge...

Marco felt held, wrapped-up in, bathed in pure love...

The next thing he was aware of, was pressing his face to Dylan's chest, Dylan's lips were pressed to the top of his head...

They were now lying down on the sofa, neither of them remembered how they got that way..

Shudders raced through them, gradually subsiding...  
Leaving both a little dazed as their breathing returned to normal.

Dylan's eyes were full of a kind of shocked wonder.

Marco...  
Marco was smiling...serenely...  
Like he understood this ...

Like he'd ...been expecting this or something like it...

Dylan's fingertips touched his face.  
When Marco looked up, there seemed to be something so...Old, and...wise/wild? there looking back at him... Then Marco blinked and grinned at him and it was gone...

It was just Marco smiling at him.  
Marco in his arms smiling at him...

Yeah, so who cared what had just happened?

Yep, time for a serious lip-lock...

Marco's hands were sliding under Dylan's shirt when the explosion of loud music right next to them shocked both back to the here and now...

Dylan groaned/growled as he reached for his cell. Flipping it open he saw his roommates' number.  
"Yeah, whats up?"  
"Just got in...Dude, your handwriting really sucks, can't read your note!"  
"Yeah, you're probably seeing double anyway!" Dylan shot back.

Marco laid his head on his boyfriends' chest to wait for them to be done; smiling as he felt the fingers begin to move in his hair. Listening to the sound of Dylan's voice in one ear. the rumble of it from his chest in the other; feeling safe and loved, he drifted into sleep with a sweet smile on his face...

The wisecracks, and cuts, and just general B.S. ended when he realized Marco was asleep. He quickly filled his roommate in on what had happened and why he might not be back in school for a little while.  
When they were done he turned his phone off before putting it away.

Adjusting one of the pillows under his head carefully, so he wouldn't wake Marco, he wrapped his arms gently round him...

He hated the circumstances , but was so glad, so...thankful...to be here again. To be able to do this again...

Just a few weeks ago he'd thought he might never see his Marco again...

University had separated them...  
His uncaring, unthinking hedonistic greed and stupidity had broken Marco's heart.

Dylan could hardly believe that had been him...  
Could hardly believe that it had all seemed 'fair, and 'right' at the time.

That Dylan was gone now, for good! The hard partying,lack of studying, and arguing with his coach were over. The 'pick the first person who answers your add' way of finding a tutor was over too.

He had nothing to prove to anyone but himself and Marco.  
He believed he was sure of himself now, though his subconscious mind seemed to have doubts; these dreams, they were driving him a little crazy...

In his dreams he lost Marco over and over again; sometimes he cheated on him, sometimes Marco found someone else he'd rather be with.

In the ones where Dylan cheated it always started with noticing someone especially; usually at some party.  
It would then get to be almost like a fever, a compulsion; he just had to be with them, if only just once, or die...

But... Marco always 'caught' them...  
Together...  
Always in bed...

The look of hurt and betrayal on his face always made Dylan feel like he was dying inside...  
He'd wake up feeling so lost and disgusted with himself, trembling with fear and shame.

When he first started having them, he had woken up alone; the old picture of Marco that he had never moved from the nightstand,(even while they were broken-up) was the first thing he saw when he turned on the bed-side lamp.

That had been really awful.  
He was still locked into the dream; so much that he didn't even realize they were back together till he saw the new pictures stuck into the edges of his mirror.

He shivered at the memory, causing Marco to stir a little. He didn't wake up, though he did slip a hand under Dylan's shirt and rub his chest a little.

That gesture, so completely unconscious, was so precious to Dylan's heart. It was just so 'theirs'...  
His eyes misted and his throat tightened.  
Smiling, he kissed the top of Marco's head.

Taking a deep breath and relaxing a little, he glanced around the room. The yellow roses on the table made him think of Mrs. Del Rossi again.

From the beginning she'd seemed to believe in him; thought he would be good for Marco, that he would make him happy, the way he should be.

She trusted him to take care of Marco.  
Keep him from worrying and keep him safe.

That she still believed Dylan was the one that could do that was just a little amazing to the older boy. He had expected her to hate him for what he had done to Marco forever.

But She had been very understanding, even though she had still been very angry the first time Dylan came to talk to her about how sorry he was and to beg her as well as Marco to forgive him. Facing her had almost been as hard as facing the boy he loved more than anything ,but had still managed to hurt so deeply.

He had a real understanding of that kind of hurt now, because of what had happened when they did get back together; their first weekend at Dylan's apartment.

Tim had come to 'talk' to Marco. To say his goodbyes in person instead of just never speaking to him again; the way he'd screamed at Marco over the phone before hanging up on him did seem to warrant an apology.  
Dylan had expected him to have his dad drive him to Marcos' house, or something; both of them were surprised when he drove up in front of Dylans' building. Marco was just about to walk up the stairs, Dylan was watching from the window. Tim got out and spoke to Marco across the top of the car. Marco hesitated, but after a moment, got into the car.

The feeling in Dylans' chest, in his gut, when that car drove away was the most unexpected, awful emptiness. Marco had left him, broken-up with him, yes, but it was somehow just ... Seeing him get in to a car and leave... With some one Dylan knew wanted him, claimed to be in love with him too...

Waiting there for Marco to come back... Or, maybe not...  
Or to come back and tell him he was sorry, he couldn't trust him enough after all. That he had decided to take his chances with Tim...

That was why Marco had returned to find him sitting in the dark...

Dylan heard the key being fitted into the lock, saw the door opening...but, somehow he just couldn't make himself move; he sat there clutching a pillow so tightly his knuckles hurt with the strain.

Marco flipped on the light as he came in, stopping to work the key out of the door. He was smiling at the  
thought of how many times he and Dylan had talked about getting this fixed.

Looking up, he found Dylan sitting frozen; staring at him as tears ran down his pale cheeks...  
He blinked at Marco like he didn't believe what he was seeing; his lips moving, trying to form words...  
For a moment he hugged the pillow even tighter.

Marco went to him, sitting down he put his arms round the distraught older boy.

"Dylan, whats wrong?" Marco asked, fear making him almost whisper it; his first thought was maybe something had happened to Paige, or some other close member of his boyfriends' family.

But Dylan was staring at him. He took Marco's face gently between his big hands, still staring like he might not be 'real'...  
His throat worked as he tried to swallow past the painful lump there.

"You..You..came back!" The older boy finally managed to choke out.  
"You came back to me!"

Feeling confused now, as well as worried for his love, Marco frowned a question at him.

Dylan nearly crushed him in a hug, then pulling back to look at him,sobbing now; he spoke between hitching breaths.."Marco... I'm so sorry!"  
The older boy's eyes pleaded, begged for him to understand...

"Please...I swear..I..I just..." He pressed his face into the younger boys neck, sobbing and shaking,holding onto him.

Marco held him, rubbing his back soothingly, stroking the tangled curls lightly and whispering comfortingly  
to him. He did understand.

Somehow Dylan now knew exactly how Marco had felt when he'd caught Dylan cheating on him...

A tiny something in his chest, something that had been holding itself tightly curled up; trying fearfully not to be touched... Relaxed...Opened.

Marco closed his eyes, pressing his lips against Dylan's hair.  
Dylan really 'got-it'.  
They would never have to go through this again...ever.

Now they could really Be again.

"I love you Dylan Micalchuk!" Marco whispered into his lovers hair.

When the shattered older boy lifted his head, the hurt and sadness in the beautiful blue eyes he loved so much tearing at his heart, Marco took hold of the tear-stained face and kissed him tenderly. He kissed his cheeks, his eyes...  
The same way he'd kissed him the first time Dylan had told him he loved him...\

From shattered to melting...  
These gentle sweet kisses spread warmth through Dylan's cold, trembling body like the sun was rising inside him. He stopped shaking...

The tears he shed now were from the shear joy of the promise in these kisses; the shadow of doubt that was now gone from those lovely chocolate eyes...

Now there was only love, understanding, and a little of that 'sorry it had to be this way' look.

Dylan knew he was completely forgiven.  
The heavy thing on his shoulders; the thing that had kept him cautious, his every movement just a little restricted...fell away...

He took hold of Marco's face, gently pressing his lips to his forehead...

Taking Marco into his arms felt soo good. Soo good.

He was home again...

"Marco..." He whispered, breathless with rising joy!

"God...I love you soo much"

The ringing phone woke Marco.  
When he lifted his head, the happy smile on his sleeping boyfriend's face made him lay there and let it ring for a moment...


	5. Chapter 6

The Dream 6 **kdoc27** Current Location: pub. libCurrent Mood: restless Current Music: Sndtrk. Flash Dance,Queen GH-2

Marco sighed and got up to answer the phone.

There was no way to get up without waking Dylan,but after the night they'd just had he'd probably need to know about anything else that happened just to try and keep up...

It was Marco's aunt Lucia calling to tell him that his father had slight concussion on top of his anxiety attack. So they wanted to keep him for a few days, just to be sure there were no further complications.

His mom talked to him for a minute; letting him know she was alright and would be spending the night with Lucia and Vito, and not to worry about her.

"Is Dylan still there?" she asked.

"Sure Ma, I'd kinda like it if he could spend the night.. If you don't mind?"

"Marco, of course I don't mind! Feed him!"she fussed.

"O.k. ma! Good night."

"Bye my angel, sleep good..."

Marco was smiling when he hung up, walking over to where Dylan sat on the couch he said, "I've been ordered to feed you!"

Dylan pulled him into his lay, his eyes twinkling as his lops stretched into a teasing grin.

"Oh really?"  
Looking into Marco's eyes this close was doing wild things to his insides...

Licking his lips, then leaning in, Marco asked,"Yeah, so what are you hungry for?"

He whispered it, lips brushing Dylan's ear, loving the way it made him shiver...

With one arm wrapped tightly round Marco's waist, the older boy closed his eyes...

"Hmmm..." he said as if giving the question serious thought..

Marco giggled, brushing his lips along his boyfriends neck.

The hand that slid down Marco's thigh stopped just above his knee,to find another of his ticklish spots...

The squirming and giggling delighted Dylan as it always had...

Dylan stopped tickling, only to pick the giggling boy up, and carry him up the stairs...

When they got to Marco's room it was only force of habit that made Dylan close the door, and Marco, still in his arms,lock it.

Dylan, enjoying the feel of having Marco in his arms, leaned back against the door, smiling, looking into those beautiful eyes, till Marco leaned in closer.  
Dylan pressed his lips against his forehead.

After a while, Marco turned slightly so he could put his arms round Dylan's neck; staring up at him adoringly.

The hero-worship in that look doing wild things to his insides, Dylan opened his mouth, with no real idea of what he would say.

Marco,laying a finger against Dylan's lips,looked down for a second, thinking what he wanted to say.

The glowing eyes, the shy smile; the way his lip got even redder when he bit it lightly;what all this was doing to Dylan's heart...

The loveliness of the blush on his cheeks, just below the fan of raven-black lashes; the slightly over-fullness of his bottom lip that gave him a sort of permanent 'pout'. Soo adorable...

Dylan could look at him for.. .just forever...  
Never had a face had such a powerful effect on him...

Dylan put him down, just so he could take hold of him at the waist, lift him against his his body and hold him some more.  
The older boy to watch the light that seemed to flare up in Marco's eyes when he picked him up this way...

Staring into each others eyes...shaking their heads at all the things they couldn't/that didn't need saying...

Dylan waited, knowing Marco would probably try anyway...

"I know you're...I know thats not why..." Marco whispered, looking up at him with that 'my hero' look shining in his eyes again, melting Dylan's heart,and wrecking his breathing...again.

Still whispering, Marco said "I..I just...You always make..."

He gently cupped Dylan's face in his hands, stared into his eyes..."I feel like I can handle anything as long as you're with me."

Dylan tried to swallow...tried to hold back the tears...  
Failing both; smiling with the tears glittering in his eyes, and beginning to slide down his face...

Dylan choked out "I'll always be here...You're stuck with me Del Rossi!"  
Marco smiled back, blinking at the tears in his own eyes...

"If I am, guess I'd better think of something to do with you.."  
Marco whispered this last part, watching the desire flash in Dylans eyes...

In the morning, Dylan, who hadn't brought anything else, wore Marco's baggiest sweats while his clothes washed. Marco made them breakfast, and in quick glances(with a few of the blushes that Dylan loved so much)enjoyed the view...

Dylan called his father, explaining what had happened and asking if he'd fix it with his school.

Marco called his mother to find out when his dad would be released; also finding out that she'd called his school so he wasn't expected there today.

Dylan's dad said he'd handle it, but that Dylan had better not miss his game on Saturday...

So they had the day...

They decided to get out of there, neither wanted to go any place in particular...

They wound up by the pond at the back of the Micalchuk estate, their old 'spot'...

Dylan turned the ignition off and just sat...waiting.  
He could almost feel Marco getting his thoughts in order, getting ready to ask...

"So..last night..what..?" "Was it..?"

"Yeah..I had another one..." Dylan said.

Marco took hold of Dylan's now fisted hand in both of his.

Dylan swallowed hard, glaring through the wind screen at nothing; seeing images from the dream that had shaken him so badly that he'd had to see Marco last night, touch him...

"This... It was..." Clenching his fists harder for a second, then half turning, staring at Marco with damp eyes he breathed deeply and almost whispered, "It was about Tim."

Tim.

What a disaster that had turned out to be...

Marco hadn't told Dylan how their 'talk' had gone; after what had happened between them when he got back to the apartment that night, it had slipped his mind at first...

Later he couldn't bring himself to talk about it to anyone for a while...

They had parked at the end of of a shopping mall, so far from the stores that there were no other cars near them.

Tim had been mostly silent as he drove.  
Marco could tell he was nervous, and he'd kept pretty quiet too.

Tim had shut his eyes, gripping the steering wheel tightly for a moment before turning to look at Marco.

"I'm sorry..."

"Tim.."Marco started.

"No, just.." Tim cut him off.  
The younger boy swallowed hard; trying to do this without crying.

He sat there, breathing deeply, but soon gave up on it, letting the tears seep slowly down his cheeks...

Marco reached a hand toward him, but the boy shook his head, drew back as if the touch might hurt him...

He just let the tears fall while he stared at Marco...almost hungrily..

"You're so.." "I.."  
"Why...?"

After all these false starts,Tim let go of the wheel and roughly scrubbed the tears from his face.  
Leaning back against the headrest,glaring up at the evening sky...

"You really love him, don't you...?" he whispered through clenched teeth.

Marco, seeing the pain, the misery in every line of the boys' body didn't want to answer, didn't want to make things any worse...

"Tim, I Marco began, not knowing really what to say.

"Well thats pretty definitive!" Tim cut him off;suddenly wearing one of the tight little smiles he used when delivering a cut to someone who'd tried to belittle him.

"Never mind, I'll take you back then." He glanced at Marco and away again quickly.

"Tim..?" Marco tried again.

The boy sat very straight now, lifted a hand in dismissal. "No it's fine, sorry about all the ..." He gestured vaguely ...

He seemed in control of himself now, if a little shaky round the edges.

Marco had gotten used to this slightly over formal Tim. This was how he'd been when they'd first met and the boy was new to their tenth grade math class.

It was a coping strategy, but he had many of his own, so he let it go.

He figured maybe if they could still be friends they'd get past it again.

When Tim dropped him off at Dylan's apartment he turned to look at Marco again, "I've really appreciated your friendship...sorry.."

Marco smiled a little sadly as the boy drove away.

It had turned out to be his last conversation with the 'real' Tim.

The state he'd found Dylan in, and everything that followed, kind of , well ..

Then he got home Sunday-night.

His mother had waited-up to tell him what had happened to his friend.

The car had been stolen.

The tree he'd driven it into had caught fire.

Thats what had gotten a patrolman's attention, since it had happened on a long empty strip of road in the middle of nowhere..

Tim had been thrown out through the wind screen...

His memory would probably return soon, but he would have the scars on his back forever...

And the wheeled chair...

Ellie had driven Marco to the hospital...

The things Tim's mother had said...

She'd tried to blame everything on him, screaming and raging that he was the reason her son thought he was 'that way' in the first place...

His father had stopped her, pulling her into his arms and just holding her while she cried...

He told Marco(after she had been sedated)to try not to let what she'd said bother him.

It wasn't his fault. He had seen 'something coming for a long time, that was part of why they had moved here in the first place.

There had been trouble at Tim's school and in their old neighborhood.

There was just...something wrong with Tim...

The brilliance, how high-strung he'd always been.

They'd be moving again soon.

He hoped Marco would be able to forgive them, and to just maybe forget...

"I..."  
Dylan's voice brought him back from these memories.

"I dreamed you went to find him." Dylan choked out.

"You told me you felt you 'owed' it to him because of what he did. Nothing I said mattered, it was like you couldn't even hear me..."  
" And then when you found him..."

"They tried to say it was a suicide-pact, but I knew you'd never..."

Dylan was shaking, the beautiful eyes pleading, filling with tears again as he touched Marco's face.

"It was just so...'real'..." Dylan said the sadness in his voice breaking Marco's heart.

Marco wrapped his arms round his love,squeezing tightly for a moment, then stroking his back soothingly;one hand finding it's way into the the riot of blond curls...

Something had to be done;they couldn't handle this by themselves...

They needed help...

Tags: marco/dylan. marco forever


	6. Chapter 7

The Dream 7 **kdoc27** Current Location: pub. lib.Current Mood: aggravated Current Music: Placido Domingo, ,,Pink Floyd,Queen

While Marco was thinking about who they could go to for help with Dylan's dreams; which had taken a much more disturbing turn, Dylan's mother was giving her secretary instructions for handling the rest of the days' appointments

She would be leaving shortly,and they would need to be rescheduled. Her clients would have to be contacted and informed of the changes.

She had, at first felt somewhat frustrated(and more than a little annoyed) that the case she had been preparing for the better part of a month had been postponed due to the discovery of new evidence by one of the detectives still investigating the 'crime'.

After James had called to let her know that their son was in town and why, and that he'd probably be home that night;she decided that there might be an important case that needed handling after all...

She stopped at her favorite Italian specialty shop, having called first and ordered a 'Man's Care Basket'; most people had never even thought of the fact that the things that say-'Get well soon, but here's a few neat snacks in the mean-time'- differ from male to female.

Her favorite bakery was next. Their miniature custard tarts could be counted on to put most guys in a receptive mood.

Armed with these items she entered the hospital and was directed to Rossi's room.

They had met before of course, once at one of Dylan's games. The other time he'd seen her in one of her tailored business suits and understated, but perfect make up,he'd found her some what intimidating.

She reminded him of Luccia. Women lawyers, which Luccia also happened to be , were another thing the ridiculously old-fashioned Carmine Alfredo Del Rossi had a problem with.

Marie-Elisse had chosen law; first as an assistant, then taking on 'actual' trial law so that she would not be as isolated from the 'real' world as her parents were.

No, they did not approve of her choice, but they loved their daughter, and learned to respect her rather determined mind set.

She'd turned out to be quite good at it, though she didn't really care for the trial side of things. She found she preferred dealing with clients, research, and trial-preparations.

"Mr. Del Rossi?"

"Eh..Mrs. Micalchuk?"

"Elisse, please."

"Carmine, come in , come in!"

The smile on her face, so like her son's,reminded him of the day he'd met her at the game. She'd yelled and screamed and cheered her son on like any other hockey fan.

He seemed to be eying the bakery bag with the most interest, so she set that one on the bed tray, putting the basket on the bed side table.

Nodding at the t.v. she asked "So who's?"

"Islanders, Devils, missed it over the weekend!"

"I won't say a word, it was a good rough game though!"

By now Carmine had sampled one of the tarts. He closed his eyes, placing his thumb and second fingers together he kissed the tips of them in appreciation.

Her smile made her eyes twinkle, just like Dylan's...

This reminded of the first time he'd met the tall blond-haired boy.

That had been on another one of their movie nights...

He and Rosa had been coming out one section of the theater, and Marco and someone they didn't know were coming out of another..

It had turned out to be Paige's brother, the 'star' forward of the De Grassi team.

Now he understood the delighted smile that had lit up the boy's face when he told him that Marco talked about him all the time...

Seeing the change in his expression, Elisse held up one hand.

"Ladies first?" she asked softly.

Carmine nodded slowly, and waited while she pulled a chair next to the bed.

She sat, looking round the room for a moment.  
The expression on her face was...one of deep bitterness...but then she seemed to get hold of herself... Seemed to be ready to say what ever it was she had on her mind.

Her eyes were a stormy sort of blue as she looked up at Carmine and said the last thing he expected to hear.

"I know how you feel." she said. The gentle, sad smile on her face made Carmine doubt... He couldn't have heard right.. What could she?

She wasn't looking at him, didn't see his questioning frown...

She was looking into the past...

"'How could this happen to me', 'whats wrong with me?', oh yes I know, I asked all the same things. I even wondered if it might not have been James' 'fault'." She said this last making quotation marks with her fingers.

"I couldn't look at Dylan, look him in the eye for days...  
I answered James in monosyllables."

She looked back at Carmine then.

"You see he'd known about it for a while already,Dylan had told him, been talking about his problems with adjusting to it...

And James had been...well... And this is what really 'burned' later;James had been doing what he could, what a 'Father' should.

He'd been trying to help and reassure, and just be there for Dylan, all by himself...

And there was Paige of course!

I remember looking round at their faces, the night Dylan told me."  
Elisse swallowed, bit her lip; her eyes taking on an angry squint as she fought the tears back.

They knew, I could tell they already knew; were there for him...  
It was me they were worried about...

I'd carried this boy, inside me for seven months and six and a half days...

And now, here he is telling me he's a...

And further more, he'd told EVERYBODY ELSE first!

I couldn't breathe...

I felt...  
I remember thinking 'just calm down', 'I'll just take a sip of water and calm down for a moment'.

I must've taken hold of the glass with rather more energy than necessary, because the next thing I knew; Paige was almost under the table, her eyes large and frightened.

"Mom, please?" she whispered at me...

Thats when I realized how hard I was gripping the glass; how my hands were shaking...

I left... Just got up and walked...

I went down the hall into the kitchen, and just started throwing things.  
I don't know how much of it they all heard...

At the time I didn't care, I just kept throwing anything breakable; glasses, plates...

And screaming, oh I don't know what-all, denials mostly, and lots of 'how could yous'.

Eventually, I found myself on the floor...sobbing.  
James was holding me, rocking me like you do a tired, frightened child...

And I was behaving like a child.  
A few days later he got enough of it, and told me it was time I snapped out of it.  
Yes, it was unexpected!  
Yes it was a 'pretty big deal'!  
But, after all, it hadn't happened to ME!

It had happened to 'OUR' son.

He had been surprised too. He was just about as unprepared as anyone raised the way he had been to deal with it too!

I was too shocked to say anything for a while!  
I couldn't believe he'd raised his voice to me!  
You see James usually just lets me fume and sulk till whatever it is passes.  
But he was quite right this time.

Dylan need to know that I didn't, that I loved him just the same as I always had... That I always would!

It's... I didn't understand then,that the first thing most of them think is that their parents are going to hate them...

He told me how angry,hurt and puzzled Dylan had been when he started noticing and having 'those' sort of feelings for the 'wrong'(and here she made quotation marks with her fingers) ones.

How he'd almost hated himself;tried to ignore it, thinking it might ..just...go away. That it had to be just a mistake, some kind of hormonal change that he'd just get through...

Then he told me about what had happened to Dylan the last time we visited an old friend of ours in Spain...

We were on vacation...  
An old friend and business partner of James' took us to dinner at a restaurant owned by a friend of his.

The man seemed nice enough; he and Dylan got to talking about hockey and they tuned the rest of us out.

I was accustomed to that,so I really didn't pay much attention.

A few days later, Dylan got bored and decided to go off on his own.  
We'd been there so many times that we never got lost anymore, so I didn't see any reason to worry...

He still hasn't talked to me about it, so I don't know if they'd arranged to meet, or if this man...  
Dylan considers it 'over and done', and I don't want to...

Anyway, he and this man started 'hanging out',watching hockey games at this fellows' villa; supposedly with a mixed group of men and boys of different ages.

Paige and I were shopping and sight-seeing, and lying round at the beach.  
I just never gave much thought to Dylans' comings and goings...

We didn't make a big fuss over the beer on his breath some times when he came back; as long as it didn't get out of hand, I'm sure you understand, he's young, but not stupid ...

One day, he was just..back;spending time in the villas' weight room, round the pool, or watching television, by himself...

My lively, vivacious son was just so...quiet..  
And I never really even paid any attention...

By the time I did 'notice', he wouldn't talk about it.

Dylan is an attractive boy. I'd seen some of the girls at the beach we frequented giving him 'that' look, so I assumed something had, turned out 'not quite right', with one of them.

We came home not long after and I forgot about it...

It was shortly afterwards, James tells me,that Dylan confided in him..

He'd already told Paige, or she figured it out; she doesn't miss much...

That man, James says he didn't 'break' Dylans' heart...more like..bruised it, but what happened between them finally convinced Dylan that he really was...  
That he really does like...

He's gay, my son is gay.

Yes, I still have trouble saying it.

Your son has helped immensely;he's such a patient,kind,and understanding person.  
Marco has so much more wisdom than one expects to encounter in such a young person.

The more time he spends with us, and the more we talk;and just seeing how they are together, has mad it so much more easily acceptable for me.

Now that everyone who needs to knows, I expect...

No, you probably don't know!"

She smiled another of those twinkling eyed smiles.

There was a teasing glint in her eyes as she said, "One of the 'conditions' Marco gave Dylan when they got back together, was that they had to do 'couples counseling'!

At this, Carmine turned to her, a growing look of wounder on his face,his eyes bright with unshed tears...

"Dylan really is amazed at how understanding Father 'Mo' is, and how much he's been able to help them learn how to handle their differences, especially in their styles of communication.

Marco has told me what 'Mo' is short for but I..?."

"Guglielmo." Carmine said softly. "It's Italian for 'William'"

"Ah, well, I expect we'll all be seeing each other in church.

We had to leave ours. They were 'fundamentalists'.

The hypocrisy was amazing, I'm ashamed to say I never gave it much thought before.

They claim every baby is a gift from GOD.

If that baby turns out to be homosexual however, they are ready to 'crucify'!

As If GOD could be surprised!"

She got up to leave then. "Well, I've taken up quite enough of your time, and I believe your next visitors have arrived."

The sound of two women speaking rapidly to each other in Italian could be heard in the hall way.

Carmine recognized the voices of Rosa and her name-sake best friend.

He didn't really feel up to dealing with the two Rosalia's just now.

His wife and Mrs. Micalchuk greeted each other as 'Lia and 'Lisse when the door opened.

Yet another surprise for Carmine!

O.k., so he had a lot of catching up to do! Tags: marco/dylan. marco forever

* * *

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	7. Chapter 8

The Dream 8 **kdoc27**

music; Queen, Placido Domingo, Rush, Diamond Rio,A.P. Project *(The Athlete and the Artist)

"Dylan I think we should talk to father 'Mo'"

This is greeted by complete silence.  
The sudden tension in the body beneath him speaks volumes...

They have gotten into the backseat, and are lying in their favorite position; Marco stretched out on top with his hands on Dylan's chest under his shirt.

Neither has said anything for a while.  
In this silence they don't need to. They fit so neatly against each others edges they could almost read each others minds...

Marco was sure that if he asked what Dylan was thinking about, he would have said 'nothing', that he was mostly just lying there, not really thinking about much of anything...

Occasionally his fingers brush or slide through Marcos' hair.

But Marco with his ear so close to Dylan's heart noticed every time the calm steady beat changed...

Dylan, while enjoying the feel of this perfect closeness also felt every time Marco tensed up, or shivered slightly.  
Marco shifted, trying to hide these things, but his lover wasn't fooled...

Knowing him as he did now, Dylan could tell something serious was coming soon.  
He should have expected this, but he really doesn't want to talk to their priest about his dreams...

Or anything to do with that time..

"Dylan.."

With an angry huff of breath the fingers moving rhythmically through his hair stilled.

"Dyl?" Marco begins as the hand under Dylan's shirt moves soothingly against the warm expanse of chest.

"Theres nothing wrong with me." Dylan said, the annoyance clear; verging on anger.

Marco just looked at him then, his lovely dark eyes full of concern.

Dylan couldn't handle that look, it tugged at his heart... put a lump in his throat.  
He took a deep breath, stared up at the ceiling of the car.

Marco waited, the hand on Dylan's chest still rubbing gently...  
"Please?"

Dylan shut his eyes for a moment.  
That sad wistful note in Marcos' voice... That catch in it that said he was trying not to cry...  
How was he supposed to fight that?

His arms have already wrapped themselves round the younger boy, one hand pulling his head back down against his chest. He presses his lips to the top of Marcos' head

Dylan breathing deeply; still unable to speak... knowing that the melting, shivery feeling in his gut will make his voice shake.  
'Some tough guy' he thought.

"O.k." Dylan whispers.

Marcos' head came up.."Really?" he asked.

Dylan rolls his eyes, a little relieved, but thinking 'I can't believe I'm doing this'.  
"No. it's not o.k..." he says..

Marco openes his mouth to object; catching the teasing glint in Dylan's eyes a second before the big blond kisses him.

"But I'll talk to him!" he finishes, grinning .

"You" Marco began, but never made it to "Jerk!" as Dylan captures his lips, taking advantage and soon possession of his open mouth.

Marco is so glad Dylan has agreed without the long drawn out argument he had been expecting, that he decided to reward him...

He let Dylan's tongue boss his around for a while, then taking it between his teeth, he moans...  
Marco loves the way Dylan shivers when he does this, so, to drive him really crazy; he runs his nails up and down the older boy's sides as well...

Dylan, sure he's about to burst into flame, moans into Marco's open mouth; his hands moving into that soft black hair, holding the younger boys' lips pressed to his own. He swipes his tongue over the roof of Marco's mouth.

Now it is Marco who shivers and moans and starts massaging Dylan's chest , the firm expert fingers moving slowly, but so perfectly, doing things Dylan can hardly believe, things that make Dylan moan, and gasp, and squirm...

They draw back slowly, reluctantly; neither wanting to stop, but needing to catch their breath...

"I love you Dylan MIcalchuk!" Still breathless, Marco stares adoringly into the dark, winter-sky blue of his lovers eyes.  
Those incredible eyes close briefly as Dylan's arms tighten round him, and a shudder runs through the older boy...  
'Marco! Marco! Marco!'

Dylan's eyes open again, shining with unshed tears as he whispers.."I love you Marco.!'' The sudden lump in his throat...

A moment ago he was on fire...

Now, this sudden tenderness...  
His heart going from thudding madly...to ...melting

'God what a ride' he thinks, hoping it will never end...

The hands that have been doing devastating things to his chest... are now cupping his face so gently, so tenderly...bringing their foreheads together,so that they rest against each other...

Marco knows Dylan would keep his promise; talk to father 'Mo about his dreams. He also knows that it wil be hard for his 'jock' boyfriend.

Dylan would rather 'do' something about a thing, than 'talk' about it.

The dream about Armand; French cook/sexpert, has gotten Dylan to take cooking a little more seriously. Marco found he enjoys cooking with, well trying to teach the older boy how to safely make better use of the kitchen.  
Talk about a work in progress...  
Their new 'fun drawer'( Dylan's solution to exotic sex) is ... pretty cool...Sometimes...

The one about Alejandro, the Cuban dance instructor has made him try to learn 'Salsa' dancing. That was coming along better than Marco had expected. Most guys that are really athletic have a hard time with complicated dance moves.

Dylan says it seems more like foreplay to him, so, (big surprise) he loves it!  
His middle aged female teacher adored Marco when Dylan took him to a session once.

That Dylan seems obsessed with guys who's names start with the letter 'A' puzzles Marco a little but he can't quite get up the nerve to ask him about it yet.

At least he is able to talk about the ones that involve someone taking Marco from him...

The ones where Dylan cheats on him he can't even bring himself to talk about yet.  
At least not to Marco.

After one of these, he is mostly silent and brooding...  
Sometimes he just cries.

If Marco is there he holds him and tries to reassure him that: yes, he believes he loves him. No, he doesn't believe he'll ever cheat on him again.  
Yes, he trusts him.  
Sometimes he just holds him till the tears and shaking stop and he falls asleep again.

This 'Tim' thing though...  
This was something new.  
This is... well A little scary...

Tim...

After all the trouble he'd caused...(Or to be more accurate tried to cause... )he mostly only made a bad situation worse, and ...stranger...  
Thoughts of him still come , seemingly from out of nowhere...

Marco knows it is better not to wonder how things were going for his lost friend/would-be boyfriend.  
It did no good to get caught up wondering about him, if he'd gotten his memory back yet.

They had made friends easily, in spite of Tims' overly formal way of dealing with people when they are new to him.

They had been there for each other a lot before it just got too hard...  
Before Tim had...

Even after all that, Marco had tried to see him when he got out of hospital.  
Tims mother had closed the door in his face; his father had called later and said that although he appriciated his concern, maybe he should just let it go.  
They had left town shortly after that.

Marco hadn't lied to him, had told him he had a boyfriend he was pretty crazy about.

That first month, when Dylan had been away, Tim had seemed to understand, but then later when he said it might be 'good for them' to 'see' other people...

Now Marco sometimes wishes he'd never told Tim about that,  
Then...maybe...

Marco remembers the night Tim came to his window...

He remembers hearing someone knocking at his window...  
How excited he'd been...  
Hoping it was Dylan...

Marco had been drinking that night.  
All by himself.

The bottle of wine he'd stolen from the assortment of bottles his parents kept was half empty now...  
The grin on his face had turned to a look of shock.  
At least he managed to hide his disapointment...

"What are you doing ?" he asked when he got the window open.  
Looking a little wild-eyed, and blushing a bright red, Tim just grinned at him and said "Hi!" somewhat breathlessly.

Marco had started giggling as he backed away from the window.  
"Yeah, a little" he says between giggles, motioning for the boy to climb in.  
The giggles had taken him over, and he had fallen onto the bed, unable to stand up or to stop.

When he thought he had control again Marco sat up, but slid to the floor and the giggles started again.  
Suddenly, Marco burst into tears.  
He hides his face in his hands, he unable to stop these sobs either.

Tim, kneels beside him, and takes his hands away from his face.

Marco can only gasp and swallow hard, trying to stop crying.  
He looks anywhere but at his friend.

So he doesn't see the tears in Tim's eyes at first...

Tim takes that beautiful face, still lovely even though it is streaked with tears, gently between his hands.  
He kisses the tears off Marcos' cheeks...

Marco is staring at him now...  
More than shocked...more like stunned!

Tim is smiling at him, even with tears still lingering in the short dark lashes just below the too bright green eyes...

"Never mind where I learned to do that." he says softly, "It's the first time I've ever done it because I wanted to!"

Pulling Marco's face close to his own again, he kisses him on the mouth.  
Gently pressing his lips to Marcos', once...and again...  
Then feathering his tongue over them...  
Like a lover...

If it had been Dylan kissing him this way, Marco would've been melting into it, lost in it...  
But this isn't Dylan...

It just feels ...strange...  
And... wrong.

He felt the other boys' lips touch his...but...  
Nothing else.  
There was just no ...FEELING...

It didn't make him angry, or sad or...anything.

Even with all Tim's...  
Expertise...  
It simply didn't touch Marco .  
At all.

Marco put his hands against the younger boys' chest, pushed him away...

Shaking his head at the boy, Marco tells him "No."

Tim's glittering green eyes tried to hold Marco's... but he turned away from him, leaned back against his bed.

"I can't ...I just...love Dylan!"

Tim balled his hands into fists...  
He clenched them so hard that the tiny half-moons his nails made would be visible for a long time after he got home that night.

Tim started to raise these fists, but then pressed them against each other in his lap and waited for Marco to look at him again...

When Marco did turn those beautiful dark eyes to him they were soo sad...

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to... just..." Tim stopped...closed his eyes...tried to calm himself.  
"Marco he's gone.."

With his eyes closed he didn't see how Marco winced when he said this...

Opening his eyes Tim stared hungrily into Marco's face.  
"If you give me a chance...I know I could make you happy again. I'm here and I won't go any where...  
I'll be here for you!"

There was look in those tear-dampened, almost crystal-green eyes that Marco had no name for...  
"Tim.." he started...

"No!" The boy cut him off; standing suddenly, and going back to the window...  
When he got there he turned back to Marco, a bright spot of color on each cheek...  
"Marco ...I love you too!" he said quickly...  
Then he was gone...

Lying here in Dylan's arms it all seems so far away now...so...unreal.

The growing misery as the weeks went by without this boy...  
This man he has given his whole heart, and everything he is to ...

The unanswered calls...

Dylan drunk and disconnected when he did answer, or call.

Starting to drink himself...not long after Dylan tells him he wants, to see other people.

MID OCTOBER

Getting Craig to drive him up to Dylan's school ...So he can surprise him...

The party.  
Seeing Dylan looking at his 'tutor' that way...

Walking away from him after he'd tried to 'explain' how what he was doing didn't mean anything...  
How it had nothing to do with what he felt for Marco.  
"Just, you know, ' wild oats', I do love you, just ..."

The older boy had been too drunk to understand that this "Bye, Dylan" meant Goodbye...

Walking away...  
Dying a little with each step...  
Fading...

Marco expected to fall apart.  
His friends seemed to expect the same thing, and just kinda tip-toed around anything that had to do with Dylan or love or dating...

But he didn't fall apart...  
He seemed to go on 'automatic'.

He sleeps, gets up and goes to school, does his school work...  
He does all the things he is supposed to do.

But...  
He only speaks if asked a direct question.  
There is no laughter, and nothing brings a smile to his face...

This was, somehow worse to his friends...  
Neither Ellie nor Paige could threaten or scream a 'real' reaction out of him.

The guy's gave up on trying to joke or tease a reaction from him after a while, since he'd only look down silently till the subject changed.

His father tried yelling at him, but what could he really say; it wasn't like Marco had done anything...  
His mother tried to get him to talk about 'whatever' might be bothering him, but he only shrugged and sat there till she gave up and left him alone.

Dylan has started calling again...  
Marco will take the phone if someone else answers it, but he only hangs it up without saying a word.  
If Dylan calls his cellphone, he won't answer, deleting the messages without listening to them...

NOVEMBER

The robot wakes...  
A very quiet, cautious Marco, one still not answering Dylan's calls, decides to 'try' with Tim ...

But his heart wakes then...

Speaks up loud and clear!

'dylan. Dylan ! DYLAN!', it seems to scream at him.

But he couldn't just take him back... Even though he wanted to so badly it was like a physical ache.  
He didn't know what to do.

He' never stopped saying his prayers each night before bed...though it was only dull empty repetition.  
Just saying words that he knew by heart, but not opening his heart to those words...

Now, for the first time in a long while, he prays for real...  
He pours out all the hurt,and rage, yes, rage at whatever is the cause of this...madness.

What they HAVE, is real, and he will not take this lying down...  
His lord understands inexplicable things(like love.) and can handle all of them!

And of course once he got started, he realizes he has been missing this 'good friend' more than his zombie-like state has allowed him to admit too...

Really FEELING the presence of this loving, truly accepting, all knowing and 'For-Him' friend that he knows his lord to be; he finally 'heard' some of the things that he'd been numb to.

He remembered how Paige had been worrying about Dylan's grades his parents had given him an ultimatum about getting them up, but Marco didn't remember what the threat was ...

He thought he remembered hearing something about Dylan arguing with his coach..? That couldn't be right...

Something is wrong... Way wrong...

Never mind 'whys' and 'if only', this is what he needs to do! He hasn't done anything wrong, or different, so it can't be his fault...  
This isn't His Dylan, but Marco believes he's in there somewhere...  
He has to be!

Where... has he ?

What have I...?

Whatever else he needs to do, this is where it starts...

Which of course brought on an 'act of contrition...

He fell asleep there on the floor by his bed...

The next day he went to talk to his friend, father 'Mo.*

Thinking about these things, his arms tighten round Dylan, even as Dylan's arms tighten round him.  
They look at each other...  
The somewhat uncertain look in Dylan's eyes tells Marco that they have been thinking about that time...

Marco smiles gently, looking into his lovers eyes...

Letting the love and trust and just... how glad he is about THEM show...

That for him all of that is really over...

Marco hopes Dylan is only trying to decide what to...how to talk to father 'Mo about his dreams...

Dylan has never really talked to anyone about what happened between him and Gyles... He tries not to think about it himself...But he thinks, maybe that is where the trouble really starts... He still wonders how he could have gone so far...

Where...

What happened to his HEART?

Yeah, those blue-green eyes had been really something...but they never could hold him, swallow him, the the way these glowing warm, rich chocolate one do..

He knows that Dylan hasn't completely forgiven, (and doesn't really trust) himself for what happened  
with his first tutor...

It shows in how careful he is picking others... And how hard he works, trying not to need one.

He takes his school work a lot more seriously now, asks more questions in class and pushes himself to join when things are being discussed.

His teachers, appreciate the changes in him and will go out of their way to give him extra help and encouragement.

On the surface, everything looks fine...

Jemma, his 'new' math tutor is a married student with two little boys.  
The 'Bun she is baking now', as she puts it will be a girl, and their last.

Sometimes they work at Dylan's place, sometimes at her and her husbands house.  
Her boys like Dylan, and he likes to play with them sometimes, when he and Jemma take a break.

The look in Dylans eyes is changing now...  
Causing a rising warmth to spread through Marco...  
His own eyes darken as their faces move closer...

With one arm round Marco, Dylan rolls them so that Marco is pressed against the back of the seat, one arm round Dylan's neck...  
Dylan, half lost in the dark sparkling, warming chocolate of Marco's eyes, finds his lover's hand and entwines their fingers...  
Their noses touch...

"Eskimo hello!" Dylan whispers, as he rubs his nose against Marco's..

Marco is still giggling as Dylan's lips find his..

tags: marco/dylan. marco forever

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	8. Chapter 9

The Dream 9 **kdoc27** Current Location: .Current Mood: amused Current Music: Cheap Trick-gonna raise hell/Alan Parsons-the gold bug, AC/DC-who made who, Robin Gibb.

Part One: Gyles

Gyles Karagianes...his hair is black, and not just your ordinary black...we're talking midnight-under-a-mountain, black! The curls are tighter than Dylans', more controlled, but just as long.  
His eyes are the startling blue-green of the Aegean Sea...  
Between swimming, cycling, and weights... Oh yeah, the bod 'rocks'!  
With his carefully maintained, tanning-booth tan and perfectly straight pearly whites, the look is... just plain devastating!  
He takes very good care of the package...  
The problem is whats in the package...

Gyles is too much the 'Goat'(he loved it the day he discovered what his name meant).  
He loves the idea of that image entirely too much; the always 'hot', always ' ready', proverbial flirt.  
If he sees something that looks good to him...  
He goes after it...  
Never mind who gets hurt, and heaven (or whatever) help anyone who gets in his way..  
His motto is 'Mark-em, Make-em,Use-em, and Loose-em!'

He loves the athletic type, and freshmen; first time away from home, getting their first taste of freedom, and 'real' partying are his favorite 'Meat'!  
They just can't wait to try all the exotic drinks and 'enhancements' he so casually mentions...  
Sometimes he doesn't even bother giving them the choice,( if it's an especially 'dumb' one) just slipping a little something 'extra' into their drink when they aren't looking.

It can be really amazing, what they come up with/what happens when some of them really... cut loose!

His first task is to get them separated from their friends.  
Well, they haven't been there long enough to make any have they? Oh yeah there was the American football player...Ooops!  
So who knew he was dating the daughter of the coach?  
Double oops!  
That one had landed him in the hospital...  
But he didn't go alone...they'd never try him one on one.  
The taekwondo came in handy too.

A couple of visits to his 'favorite' club; member and one guest only, so he told them, set them up nicely for the next step if they were 'good ' little boys..  
The club not only served a lot more than rare drinks, they offered all sorts of live entertainment, and offered a variety of types of massages...  
So did Gyles...

The ones who thought of themselves as 'rebels', or 'daredevils' were even easier...  
Once he got them alone...  
And the cuffs on...  
He usually owned them... till he got tired of them...

Gyles' father had started taking the boy traveling with him when he(Gyles) was fourteen.  
His father felt that it was time for the boys' 'real' education to begin.

Did he know his son was gay?  
Sure.  
Spiros 'Spike' Karangianes had other sons, and wasn't worried about passing on the family name or business.  
He simply saw in Gyles a young man with the same appetite for pleasure that he had.

Spike's Arab partners were some of the most sexually open men,( at least in private) he'd ever met.  
It was mostly with them that he'd discovered 'clubs' that catered to a depth of sexual variety(never darkness of course) he'd never imagined existed.  
Money, it seemed could buy almost anything!  
He sought out these types of places in every city he visited, and in some several...

By the time Gyles was seventeen, he'd taken the boy to all of them.

Did he love his wife and family?  
Of course!  
But that didn't have any thing to do with ...  
Having a little fun.  
'All- work- and- no- play, ' you know...

Gyles is now twenty, speaks five languages and has sampled a few different schools, (and students) on more than one continent.  
Male athletes are still his favorite...

Were they all gay?  
Well, not in the beginning...

By the time he was finished with them, quite a few...just don't know anymore...

Most of his 'rejects' have one thing in common...  
Silence.  
Most didn't want to talk about it.  
They just wanted to get over it and forget.  
The sooner the better!

Every now and then he slipped..  
Got too close.  
Saw it happening, but...  
It was like he couldn't stop...  
Till it was almost too late...

The first time he saw Dylan was the day he (Dylan) gave up and put up an add for a math tutor.

Dylan was standing at a bulletin board in the student union, trying to pick a place to put his 'Tutor Needed', notice  
You know the type, message on top, bottom cut into strips with the phone number on them.

There was some about how straight, yet relaxed he was standing, even with the heavy bag of hockey gear hanging from his shoulder.  
Dylan pinned up the note, put his hands in his pockets, shrugged, and just walked away.

Those long legs, and that strawberry-blond hair bouncing lightly on those wide shoulders...

From his collection of American slang, Gyles picked a phrase that expressed exactly what he was feeling: "Gotta get me some a that!"

Chapter 9 Part II  
Who Am I?

Couples counseling is usually done on Thursdays at Marcos' church.  
He'd never given the why of that much thought, until father 'Mo suggested it might help him and Dylan.

Now, he thinks the reason might be that it helps the couples have better weekends.

Since Dylan was in school and the drive there and back would interfere with his study time, they'd been allowed to do their sessions on Saturday mornings, right after Mass.

This meant Dylan had to go right back to school afterwards to be ready for his games...

Dylan hadn't been too crazy about the arrangement... but he was willing to do anything to get Marco back, so ...

The first few times, he'd gone back alone...

Then, at father 'Mo's suggestion, Marco went with him, but Paige and Spinner came with them.

Father 'Mo said that they should take things slowly; not try to just pretend that nothing had happened.  
Try to give each other more space than maybe they did before, and work on their style of communicating.

Oh yeah...and no 'serious' touching for a little while...  
He knew Marco wasn't ready to let him that close again yet, so that was really no problem.

He didn't know how long he'd be able to deal with never being alone with him though.  
Always having someone else there, hearing everything, seeing his every glance or anything that showed on their faces...  
That might drive him a little crazy if it lasted much longer...

He talked to Paige about it, not quite having the nerve to say anything to Marco...  
If he mentioned it and Marco said... Well... that it wasn't bothering him...  
Dylan really did love Marco, and seeing him again, being able to talk to him again, but not even being allowed to hold his hand or touch his face, much less kiss him...especially when he smiled...

They'd done the 'couples questionnaire'; that had kinda made his stomach turn, but they had already known they were opposites, but they fit together, just seeming to have just what the other needed ...like there was any doubt...  
He'd never ...just clicked with anybody like that before.

Paige had suggested they see a movie, but no Zombies, she wasn't crazy about those, and much to her surprise neither did Spinner.  
He told her she could pick the movie, but no 'tear-jerker', he didn't think his stomach could handle that!

She and Spinner met them at the church, as usual that Saturday, but when they got to the parking lot, Marco followed him, smiling shyly when he stopped by the passenger side of Dylan's convertible.

Dylan's heart almost stopped, then began to alternately stutter or thud.  
The look of dazed wonder on the older boy's face making Marco roll his eyes, but the blush that came with that eye-roll stole any words that might have been forming in Dylan's gear-locked brain.

Marco got in.  
Dylan still couldn't think of a thing to say...  
He licked his lips, as he sat down and finally closed the door.

Paige, grinning like the Cheshire cat, told him which movie they'd agreed on , and that they'd have to follow  
her and Spinner to where it was playing...  
She'd had to yell the last part, as Spinner was already pulling away.

Turning back to Marco, Dylan could still only manage to stare ...his eyes glowing with warmth at the thought of having his love all to himself for the entire drive...

Marco chuckled, and turning to look at him through his lashes..."Hey, Michalchuk, you gonna drive...or just sit there tryin to catch flies?"  
Oh yeah, that got him a poke in the ribs... and the tickle-fight was on.

The sensations flowing through Dylan's system right then left booze in the dust.

The buzz he got from just being with Marco again...  
And now the light touches, and the completely delicious sound of that happy laughter...

He hadn't realized how much he had missed this...

And father 'Mo hadn't given him the slightest clue..  
He must've known, Marco would've talked to him about this first.

Father 'Mo...  
Dylan still didn't really know what to think of him.

He knew that Marco and this guy had been friends since his young boyfriend had been a little kid.  
He really cared about Marco a lot; enough to be dealing with all of this and seeming not to care what anybody thought.

That said a lot.

That, and the fact that he hadn't tried to make Dylan feel like he'd committed a cardinal sin by cheating were just amazing!

He had listened to Dylan's very abbreviated version of his first few months at university; with all the drinking, class skipping, and lack of communication with Marco and his own family.  
He let Dylan tell what he felt like telling without any sign of condemnation or...  
Anything.  
He didn't try to 'guilt' him.

That had been their second session.

The first one was just spent talking about the reason for counseling, and what he hoped to help them accomplish. Things like better communication; a way of discussing things that actually got them somewhere, instead of just arguing and getting angry, fewer arguments.

They would also learn how to express themselves honestly, and thoughtfully, and probably with fewer words. For some reason he smiled and nodded at Marco while he said this last part, though Dylan didn't mind the soft color that tinted the younger boy's cheeks at all...

They talked about the play that Marco was producing and acting in for Drama Class, and whether or not he'd given any thought to what he would study for when it was his turn at university.

With Dylan, he talked about Hockey, and who he t ought he might like to play for. He seemed surprised that Dylan had no thoughts on what he might like to be besides a Hockey player, but said they could discuss this at another time.

Which reminded Dylan that this was more than just a friendly chat.

He almost forgot to give them their questionnaires till they were ready to leave...almost out the door in fact.  
When Dylan talked to his father about this later he said that Father 'Mo was trying to diffuse the tension most people(read males) feel about such things.

At their next session, the priest had taken the completed booklets( each one was four pages long) and glancing through them to be sure all the questions had been answered, put them into a folder.  
He then got up, taking the folder with him, saying he'd be back in a few minutes.

Dylan turned to Marco, opened his mouth...then closed it again and just smiled at him...staring.  
"What?" Marco asked.  
"Nothin." Dylan said shaking his head, still smiling.  
He(Dylan) got up, turning the straight-back chair he'd chosen round so he could lean his arm on the back of it. He sat there looking from Marco's hair, which was now longer and curling to the new running shoes...smiling.  
Marco stared back, seeing a look of speculation seem to flicker across his boyfriends face, but it was gone just as quickly...leaving just the smile.

Marco started to blush a little.

That caused the older boy to glance away for a second. He seemed to be having a problem swallowing...

When he looked back at Marco his lips slowly stretched into a grin.

Marco, deciding he'd had enough of this, reached over and punched the older boy in the arm.  
Dylan only grinned harder.  
"Stop it!" Marco said through clenched teeth. "What are you staring at?"  
Dylan just raised his eyebrows and shrugged like he had no idea what Marco meant.

Marco threw his hands up in a 'whatever' gesture, and turned away.  
He looked around the room; seeming to ignore Dylan completely while trying to imagine what this could be about.

Dylan carefully reached over and took a lock of the dark curling hair between his fingers.  
'Yep, just as unbelievably soft as ever...' he thought.

Father 'Mo chose that moment to come back into the room.

Dylan snatched his hand back, accidentally pulling Marco's hair.

"Ouch! what!"  
Marco grabbed his head, turned towards Dylan, about to punch him again and realized the door had opened all at the same time!

Watching Marco get flustered trying to decide what to do had Dylan too captivated to notice that Father 'Mo was watching him...

This and a lot more would come out when they finally talked one on one...

Dylan thought about all this as he drove over to the church.  
He'd called earlier to see if the priest could see him; hoping he wouldn't , so this could be put off a little longer.  
No such luck!  
There'd been couple of cancellations.  
Of course he had time to talk with him about anything he felt he needed help with, how about this afternoon?  
Just great...

So, after lunch, he dropped Marco off at the hospital, making him promise to call him when he was ready to leave.

Dylan's mom had called, she'd talked to Marco as well.  
Marco had called his own mother after that, hardly able to believe it...

When Dylan got off the phone with his mom, looking over at Marco he found him smiling softly and staring off into the trees...

Dylan trailed his fingertips lightly down his boyfriends cheek.  
"Hey, what do you want to do for lunch?" He asked, smiling delightedly.

Marco turned to him; placing a hand on Dylan's cheek he reached over and entwined the fingers of his right hand with those his lovers left.

Looking into the now glowing cerulean-blue eyes, he said " I want to go to The Dot. I want to get burgers and fries...to go...  
Then...  
I want sit in the park, by the fountain and feed you fries, and kiss you...  
In front of the whole world..."

Tags: marco/dylan. marco forever

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	9. Chapter 10

The Dream 10 **kdoc27** Current Location: pub.lib.Current Mood: pissed off Current Music: v-old Bee Gee's, A., A.L, Co. So..

*Joyce Meyer(Battlefield of the Mind)**Susan Howatch(Glittering Images

"I have not tried to give you much advice on the subject of sex, mainly because I know neither of you would really  
listen, but also because of the way the world still treats homosexual couples.

For myself, I believe that when we were told to love each other and not judge, we should have taken that and run with it!

Each of us will answer to our lord for our own sins and omissions, not how well we kept track of someone else's!  
I don't think he'll even ask our opinion of anyone else!  
He knows each of us, what we are and where we came from, I am sure never escapes his memory.

That is why he is the only one who can, or should ever judge.  
He alone knows his plan for each of us and the roads we are meant to travel in getting there.

It is not good for a man or anyone for that matter, to live in a 'closet'!

We were made by a being of light!  
Light, and love...though not the pale thing we call love, and... might!

We were meant to walk in the light!

But, judgments are made...  
Then on the basis of these 'opinions', laws...

So a kind, gentle, loving, and delightfully creative soul, such as our Marco, gets to carry an invisible ball and chain around for the rest of his life!

Yes, you can 'come out', but...  
There should never have been an 'in'!

I don't believe that 'out', will ever feel the same as 'normal'.

I believe you are good for him.

I believe you are strong enough to help him carry a great many things...  
Maybe even help him learn to put some of them down... Eventually!"

They were in Father 'Mo's study, instead of the spacious room where young-couples counseling was usually done.

"So, my friend, what troubles you ?" Father 'Mo asked, leaning his elbows on the desk, his fingers laced in front of him.

Troubles...  
Yeah, this was troubling him alright... but...

Dylan had one ankle on his knee, his elbows on that leg... Most telling of all, he was chewing on his thumb-nail...

"Just... some dreams I've been having." he said with almost no inflection at all.

A less observant person might have missed the tension in his body and face ...  
That he seemed to be having trouble swallowing...

"Dreams." Father 'Mo repeated.  
"Yeah...um, well more like..." Dylan trailed off vaguely.

"The same dream, but with different people?" the priest asked him, looking sympathetically into Dylan's now shocked...but slightly angry eyes.

Dylan sat there, staring back at Father 'Mo, while angry tears filled his eyes...

Chewing the inside of his lips, he finally looked away, taking a deep breath.  
Before he could speak, however the priest cut him off.

"No, Marco hasn't told me anything.'

A tremor ran through the big blond...  
'If Marco hadn't said anything...how could this man know?'  
He thought this, while looking down at the floor; around at the walls...anywhere but at the man before him.

Looking back up at Father 'Mo defiantly, leaning back in an almost 'cocky' sort of way Dylan opened his mouth, but the priest cut him off again...

"Or is it more than one?" he asked, still looking as if he felt sorry for what Dylan was going through.

But how could he?  
How could he have any idea?  
Dylan felt like he'd been punched in the gut!  
Breathless...cold/hot...and... more than a little scared...

That brought the anger...brought it up hard and fast; narrowing his eyes and fisting his hands.  
Before he could reply to this, Father 'Mo continued..."About your dreams, he has said nothing. I knew something was bothering him, but he's not ready to talk about it yet.

He did,however ask a question I had expected long before now... He asked me what could make a 'person', a pretty fearless person get scared, all of a sudden, and if it would make them seem angry."

Father 'Mo sat there looking at him with an expectantly...  
"I don't know wha.." Dylan started...but something...some picture was trying to...

A room full of shadows...  
...and a sound...like...laughter and ...whispering...

Dylan got up quickly, and paced to the window, biting on his thumbnail...

The memory was...dim.  
Like something seen through smoke or...thick fog...

He remembered...  
Everything had been...wonderful...but then...

It was hard to get a grip on...  
When he tried to think just what had happened... He saw himself getting in his car and driving away...alone.  
But that didn't happen!

It was His memory damn it!  
What the!

In his mind he got a sudden picture of... Gyles.  
Gyles in some bar...laughing.  
Something about the sound of it...not the laughter...but that other sound, the noise around them; the chatter and laughter in the background...  
That was the noise in his head when he tried to remember that night...

"I.." Dylan had to stop, swallowing the bitterness that rose up in his throat.; closing his eyes, he swayed a little with a sudden dizziness.

And Father 'Mo was there, with a cold towel, a steadying hand and soothing words.  
Putting the towel on the back of the distressed boy's neck, he led him to a chair; sat him down and handed him a glass of water, telling him to just take small sips.

When the boy seemed to have calmed down, he placed his hands on top of Dylan's head.  
The boy jerked away from him, started to get up, but the priest caught him by the shoulders; bending so he was looking straight into his eyes he asked; "Dylan, has anything I've done hurt your relationship with Marco?"

Dylan, who had taken hold of the man's hands, to move them off his shoulders stopped, staring back. The look on his face said plainly, 'So What?'

Father 'Mo stared calmly into the angry, suddenly much paler blue eyes that were now burning into his own.  
"Isn't Marco happier, more confident ...more 'open' with you now than before?" he asked.

Dylan glanced away...  
He thought of Marco; joining him in the shower sometimes...walking round the apartment in only one of Dylan's hockey shirts...skinny-dipping in the heated pool the night they'd sneaked in after hours.  
Some of the tension left the boy's shoulders; he almost smiled.

The eyes that finally returned to the priest's were their normal blue again, though the expression in them was still guarded.

"Marco trusts me, can you trust me for a moment...then I will explain...o.k.?"

Dylan sat back in the chair, laced his fingers and waited...

As the priest stood to place his hands back on Dylan's head, he thought how much looking into the boy's eyes felt like looking into those of some wild creature...something with very little time for anything but it's own things/wants/desires...

'Marco my friend', he thought; 'it's a pet lion you've got here!'

Silently, he called on his lord; then aloud he asked that he remove the mind-binding spirit* from this man. He also rebuked the spirit himself, invoking the 'NAME' and telling it to be gone!

Dylan held himself still, and waited for it to be over...

(DYLAN)

'Yeah, right...  
Paige would love this!  
First I almost...faint, now I get my head blessed...or is it exorcized!  
And this is supposed to get me to less weird?

...What came into his mind was a memory...

He was a kid, playing in his backyard; he'd found a worm, and was watching it inch it's way along the bark of a tree, when Paige called him...  
"Dyllalyn! Dyllalyn!"  
He really hated the way she said his name!  
Their mother said she'd be able to separate Dylan Allen in a little while, but it sure seemed like a long while to him!

"Dylan?"  
"Huh?"

Coming out of his daze with a jaw-cracking yawn, he covered his mouth and blinked at the priest as if surprised to see him there.

"I said that psychology is simply an explanation of how the mind works; just another way of dealing with people in terms that are easier for therm to accept.  
as a clergyman, I deal in real truths...though they do not seem so to those who try to live in only what they perceive as the real world."

"O.k..." Dylan said, not really following much of this; but he'd been promised an explanation, and intended to keep listening till he heard something that sounded like one!

"For one who lives on faith (trusting the father to know and care for them) the 'real' world is not the same; not as concrete as it seems to those who believe what you see is all there is.

The trial that the two of you have just come through is not what you think it was.  
You probably think of demons as nothing more than something from horror movies, or old tales told by uneducated people who don't know any better.  
That is one of the most clever tricks their 'master' has ever pulled off!

Never mind that nothing had happened to cause you to doubt so strongly...and even if it had; why not just resolve it a the two of you usually did?  
No, Dylan; doubt of that magnitude is the demon itself!"

Dylan didn't know what to think of this, feeling really puzzled he started to ask...  
"You're telling me..that...?"  
Anticipating his question, the priest asked; "You didn't know that there is a demon who specializes in making us have deep, life altering, sometimes life destroying doubts?"

Frowning in concentration, the boy shook his head no.

"A great many things that get blamed on 'emotions' are nothing so simple...or benign! Fear, doubt, self-hatred, shame, and guilt; there are demons who promote and strengthen these things.** They whisper..." Father 'Mo began, but trailed off; seeing that the boy wasn't listening.

Dylan was remembering ...whispers...laughter...shadows that seemed to grow...

The way his mind had seemed to be jumping from one thought to another...faster than he could keep up...one terrible possibility after another...trying to keep up!

And just, feeling...more and more...wrong.  
Wrong...about how Marco really felt about him..  
Wrong...for letting the 'whole world', see how he felt..

How could it be true...how could Marco Del Rossi possibly love HIM...he'd never done anything to deserve...  
Which made him...afraid.  
Afraid it was all a lie, and he was just being set up...

Being afraid...had made him get angry...

Now, all those thoughts...just seemed...stupid!

Now, he could remember that just two days before that, they'd both told, and shown each other just exactly how much they cared...  
'My god!' Dylan thought...'He'd been Marco's first...just two days before...'

Leaving out most of the details; he told Father 'Mo what he could now remember perfectly.  
By the time he finished, he was pacing...again, and chewing on his thumbnail...again; a look of angry bewilderment in the stormy blue eyes.

"But how could..!"  
"A scattered, out of control mind may be tricked into...many things, also very strong emotions can be...manipulated." Father 'Mo said, following Dylan's movements with sympathetic eyes.

"But why?"  
"Why me-us?" Dylan demanded, hands fisted at his sides as he paced.

"I'm not anywhere near sure... I know that what you two have is special. Marco has always been a very special person; loving, kind, generous, and with a surprising stubborn streak that makes him stronger than expected!"  
Dylan smiled, rolling his eyes and nodding; yeah, he knew all about that stubbornness!

"The two of you balance each other in a way that is truly delightful and very encouraging to behold!"

Dylan had finally stopped pacing, and was leaning on the back of a chair; the gentle, almost smile telling Father 'Mo that he was thinking of Marco...and a lot more...

"And," the priest said looking at his watch; "I think thats enough for one session. Go on, save the hospital the repair bill!" he finished with a slight smirk. Dylan, putting his jacket back on, lifted an eyebrow at him.  
"For the trench he's pacing into their sidewalk!"  
That got a real smile and an understanding nod from Dylan, who figured he was probably right.

"Thanks, Father...and ...um...Saturday?"

"Next Saturday, I'll be out of town this weekend." he replied. Then, showing a little of the shrewdness he mostly kept hidden..."Yes, maybe by then you'll have decided how to tell me about some of these...dreams." Dylan blinked a little, realizing just then that he'd never gotten round to what he came for!

Father 'Mo said, "That was really a better beginning than I expected...besides, you wanted more time to think about it...and now you have it!"  
The satisfied smile on the mans face, and the 'gottcha' twinkle in his eyes dropped Dylan's mouth open!

A blushing, but smiling Dylan looked steadily at him as he finished zipping his jacket, then, nodding once, he hurried out to go get Marco.

Dylan's phone rang before he could get his seatbelt on; from the delighted smile that stretched his lips and brightened his eyes when he saw the number, you'd have thought it was some long- lost lover...  
Not one he'd only been parted from for the length of he and Father 'Mo's meeting!

"Hey babe, I'm on my way! Tell me theres no place we need to be for at least an hour or two!"  
"Why?"a laughing Marco asked.

"Because, I want YOU, the whole You ...and nothing but YOU!"

Grinning delightedly, but wickedly now, Marco replied "Gee, I feed the guy a couple of fries by a fountain, and he thinks he owns me!"

"Marco!.!" Dylan said; as if just saying his boyfriend's name gave him pleasure.  
"Babe, you own this heart, this body...and ...just All of me..."

"-"

"And I love it when you blush like that!" Dylan said; the deep laughter in his voice sending shivers down Marco's back...all through him.

"How... You can't... !"

Beyond the deep delicious sound of Dylan's chuckles, Marco heard the the rising sound of the motor as his still reckless lover revved it!

"My god Del Rossi! I do love you!" Dylan yelled into his phone before closing it up, and putting his foot down!


	10. Chapter 11

The Dream 11 **kdoc27**

Current Location: pub.lib.Current Mood: contemplative Current Music: Bee Gee's, Ramones, Dire Straits

*psalm 65:05

Marco was on top of the world!  
His family was whole again...His again!

They'd held each other and cried together...

His parents, and his priest were coming to Dylan's game on Saturday!  
Marco was still trying to decide whether or not let this be a surprise to Dylan or not...

His father was being released this evening, and having seen some of the looks that had passed between him and his mother; he knew that they wouldn't mind having the house to themselves tonight.

He would call them an the way...

He had his family back!  
He had the Micalchuk family!  
Dylan!

Dylan! Dylan! DYLAN!

He marveled at how...just the thought of...Dylan...put a glow in his heart...brightened his world...his whole life...  
The ordinary sights that made up the world; the buildings, the the trees, their leaves moving in the evening breeze...even the sidewalks...  
Everything looks somehow...new and wonderful...magical..

The way the setting sun made the windows in the tall buildings into small copies of itself...  
The cold crispness of the air...even the hum of traffic seemed full of...hints of magic!

Marco felt like he'd been stumbling through a deep fog that had finally lifted...  
As he leaned against the side of the hospital, he found himself whispering..."By awesome deeds thou dost answer us in righteousness.."*

By the time the earth was being 'greatly enriched, he'd spotted Dylan's car.

Marco was fastening the seatbelt when he noticed what could only be flowers, wrapped in green paper lying on the seat between them.  
"Oh, did you want to go in?" he asked, glancing up to find Dylan smiling broadly at him; the delighted twinkle in the sea-blue eyes bringing a wider, answering smile to his own lips.

"Nope." Dylan said,leaning in for a quick kiss...which of course turned into two...

Which might have ended who knows where if Marco hadn't poked him in the ribs!  
"Dyl! we're in the hospital parking lot!" Marco reminded him, grinning, and pulling on one of the wild curls.

Dylan, his face flushed, breathing fast and uneven, blinked; a little surprised to find one hand buried in Marco's hair...

Taking hold of Marco's hand, he pressed it to his chest, so he could feel the fast heavy thudding.  
"For you..." he said.

Lifting that hand from his chest, he kissed th palm; smiling at the blush on his boyfriends cheeks.  
Turning back he put the car in gear, then picked up the flowers, put them in the younger boy's lap.  
"And by the way, so are those..."

Marco, his lips parted in delight and surprise, stared at the bouquet of Daffodils with the single red rose in the middle...

The look that was on Marco's face by the time Dylan got to the exit from the parking lot and glanced at him again, ran through the older boy like a jolt of electricity!

Marco was so completely...enchanted...  
"Dylan got me flowers!"  
He stared down at them...then over at Dylan, his face glowing with adoration!

Of course Dylan squealed out onto the street!

Marco couldn't get mad at him for his driving now; shaking his head at Dylan's recklessness, he grinned mischievously.  
He knew how to get him to slow down and be more careful, without getting angry...or spoiling the mood...

Unfastening his seatbelt, Marco moved over so he could put a hand on his boyfriends shoulder.  
With his lips almost touching the older boy's ear, he breathed out...  
"Hey...wild thing.. I want you in one piece tonight...and nothing else!"

Knowing the effect this innuendo would have was enough; though to himself he added 'one of the things I don't want you in is a hospital bed'!

Before Dylan had a chance to get mad for being asked to slow down, Marco began to tickle that ear with the tip of his tongue...

(Dylan)

Oh yeah, I slowed down.  
I think I saw stars...and comets!

Just the tip of his tongue...

Shivers were chasing each other up and down my back...all over!  
Good thing he still had the flowers in his other hand.

I heard laughter in his voice as he whispered.."Thank you...", against the side of my neck...pressing his open mouth there, he began to soo sweetly, steal what was left of my sanity.  
My traitor arm held him there...and let him...

When we got to Marco's house, he went upstairs to pack, and I called my mom. She was just about to leave her office for the day, and had to put me on hold.

When she came back on the line, she didn't seem all that surprised that I was bailing on dinner.  
"I hope you two can still stand this much togetherness after you're married!"

"- -"

"Dylan!" She was laughing at me.

"Dylan how can you be so obtuse? Oh, never mind. James and I are coming up to take you out after the game on Saturday. Iron something nice...and don't try to get Marco to do it! Bye darling."  
"O.k. mom, bye..."

'Obtuse?'  
'After we're...!

Marco came down the stairs with a bag in one hand, his phone in the other. He was finishing up with Ellie.  
"Yes, I'll tell you all about everything Monday. I promise! No, I wont leave out a thing... Well...  
See you Monday, bye!"

Setting the bag down, he went to Dylan. Wrapping his arms round him, and resting his head on his shoulder. Dylan returned the hug; his big hands moving over Marco's back till the younger boy sighed in contentment.  
"You realize, you are now, officially part of a big, loud, bossy, Italian family?"  
Dylan chuckled at this.  
"Worse than Paige?"  
Grinning and squeezing him tightly once more before pulling back, Marco said, with a smirk, "Believe me, compared to the women in this family, she's a feather weight!"

Glancing round the kitchen Marco opened a drawer; rummaging in it till he found a scissors with a spring attached to them. Dylan sighed, realizing there was more to be done before they could leave.

They'd replaced all the flowers by the time Maria, Gina, and the other Rosalia arrived with the meal they had prepared so Mrs. Del Rossi wouldn't have to cook pm her first night back home.

Dylan was hugged, and kissed by all of them, upon being introduced. Marco was also hugged, kissed, and of course his cheeks were pinched, much to his embarrassment(and Dylan's delight)!

There was a lot of giggling... and a few tears...  
Bambino, amore, and Dio-mio, were about the only words that Dylan understood in the rapid barrages of Italian.  
Marco translated some of it, blushing and giving his boyfriend a look that said very clearly what would happen to him later for enjoying this so much!

Eventually, after a few minutes of 'fetch-and-carry', and another round of hugs and kisses, they escaped and left the women to their preparations.

Dylan carried Marco's bags out to the car, which delighted the women and earned him an eye-roll, and a few whispered threats from Marco!

Dylan was surprised when Marco held his hand as they walked to the car; after all that, he had expected the silent treatment... for at least... a few miles!

Marco was just so happy after that show of acceptance!  
He also knew they still had an 'audience'.  
So...

After Dylan put his bags in the backseat, Marco stood there smiling at him so warmly... knowing what his reaction would be.  
Dylan was bending to kiss him...forgetting where they were...  
By the time his brain caught up with his body...!  
But Marco didn't hesitate at all...  
Putting his arms round him and kissing him like they'd never had a thing to hide...from anyone.

From the door, the laughter and applause (and a few sniffles) of his mothers friends( of course they'd been peeking!) warmed Marco's heart even more!

Dylan thought his heart might just explode!  
Picking Marco up, and spinning them round and round, he yelled, "Yeah!"  
Marco held onto him tightly, laughing... happy tears trailing silently down his face...


	11. Chapter 12

The Dream Chapter 12 **kdoc27** Current Location: pub.lib.Current Mood: chipper Current Music: Bee Gee's-(post disco)

(* Once upon a time, so did my tech-gangs'!)

Having a three bedroom apartment is nice; having a roommate to share the cleaning is pretty cool too.

Jacob R. Wassermann, the third no less, is one of those rare guys who can party all night, sleep for two hours, and get up looking (and able to function) like he got the recommended eight!  
He is a solid B+, student, the only 'boy-chick', as his mom sometimes called him.  
His four sisters adore him and are proud of his ability to drink and party so hard, and still keep his grades up!  
Just like the tales their mother tells of his dad in his college days!  
His family is sure he'll make a fine lawyer.

Dr. J. Wassermann, doesn't really mind his son not following in his footsteps; his eldest daughter, Esther, is doing just fine in med-school!

Jake, is into exercise, and sensible eating...during most of the week. His week starts on Sunday -morning.  
Saturdays he only drinks wine, or coolers, in moderation.  
The week-end, starts on Wednesday, after his last class of the day...*

With all this it was a little surprising to some people, especially those who only know him by reputation, that Jake was almost the only person Dylan spent much time with when he decided to back-off from the heavy drinking and get himself back 'in-gear'.  
Jake just seemed to understand, and didn't try to make Dylan feel like a wuss for making the choice.

The light was on in Jake's window, when they got to the apartment, making Dylan worry, since it is a Thursday-night, that they might have a test.  
On their door, the 'Don'T EveN ThinK AbouT IT!' sign hung from the knocker.

'That's right! Dylan thinks. Turning to Marco he said, "Sometimes he has a girlfriend. Umm...Glorianna!"  
Marco lifted an eyebrow and pointed to the sign.  
"What do you mean sometimes?'  
Dylan shrugged, trying to get the key in. "She's poetry/photography, so she's away a lot or just out, and she has a yoga class."  
Grinning as he finally got the door unlocked, he added "She also takes belly-dancing!"

With Marco's eyes open wide like that and his eyebrows up...Dylan saw a hint of Marco's father in his young lover's face.  
Dylan caught himself wondering how much Marco's face would...change...what he might look like in...oh ...say...twenty or so years...  
'What the...!'

"Hey babe, you hungry? I'm hungry! How 'bout Chinese? You like Chinese right?" Dylan had his phone out.  
Yeah, he had just about every place that delivered on his speed-dial!

"O.k., sure. Think I'm gonna hit the shower." Marco said, heading for the bedroom to unpack. He was a little puzzled by Dylan's sudden intensity...just about ordering food..?

Having found the place he wanted at last, Dylan ordered, found out how long the wait time would be...  
And found he still had time for...  
What was that...  
Why should it make him...nervous- stomach flipping, breathless..?  
These weren't butterflies that danced in his stomach, whatever these things were, they wearing cleats!  
Marco...and ...marriage...

Why...how...could someone a wonderful as Marco want a big fake like...?

And where the hell did THAT come from...!  
'All the things you haven't told him...' came the answer, almost as soon as he asked the question.

As if it had been waiting for an opening, that exhilaration, that wild, excited, sort of ''go for it', kind of feeling rose up again... It had no patience for nervousness, or fear of any kind; blowing it away like bits of paper in a tornado!

Marco had said he felt he could handle anything with him...  
That was pretty-much what he was feeling now...only...  
'THIS IS YOUR MARCO, ENJOY IT-LOVE HIM!' the thing inside him seemed to shout!

He thought of that 'my-hero', look and how it made him feel...  
There were just so many things that his young love did that seemed...so much more brave, so much harder than anything he'd have done if their positions had been reversed...

Like...dating someone older, (and a big dumb 'jock' on top of that!) going to Dylan's prom, when anyone might have seen...and told his(Dad) parents...  
Then, later...  
Marco walking away from him...because then it had been the right thing to do...refusing to be treated that way...but loving him still...

Refusing to take him back unless they got counseling...  
Telling his father...alone...just doing it!  
Sitting in the park...being openly WITH ME!

He remembered telling himself...and Spinner...that the reason he hadn't made a move was ...because Marco was so young.  
He didn't want to take things anywhere he wasn't ready to go yet.

It had sounded good...  
But even then part of him was a little...  
Well, hell, a lot nervous, and why should he get so... excited, just because this guy smiled...at him?

By the time Spinner had approached him, he'd been half out of his mind with thinking about Marco; his smile, his eyes, his hair,the sound of his laugh...

They'd ended up with a 'first-date-disaster-story' that, after telling his dad, and hearing what happened on his parents' first time out, didn't seem so bad...

At least he hadn't run out of gas(for-REAL)in the middle of a busy street; after having used so much mouth-wash that the Breathalyzer judged him too drunk to drive!

And that first kiss...

He hadn't planned to kiss him...  
When they'd went out behind The Dot, so they could talk in private; he'd only intended to let Marco know that they were still o.k. That Mr. Del Rossis' comments weren't anything he couldn't handle.

It was just...  
Marco...that teasing smile... on that beautiful face...while he looked up at him through those dark, thick curling lashes...

Dylan remembered thinking, later... lying in bed, too excited/delighted, to sleep 'Now I know how a magnet feels...'

Getting to know Marco, he found him even more amazing on the inside...  
That was the part that ...well, made Dylan more than a little anxious...

Yeah, he liked him; had LIKED him on first sight.  
But the...almost..CRAVING...  
The sneaking out to see him in the middle of the night ...  
The kneeling on the roof...just watching him sleep...  
And even THAT was exciting!

But even with all that, he hadn't stopped his weekend...excursions.  
Not at first...

When he began to realize he was in love, his first thought had been, well what about...sex...  
He wasn't willing to give it up, but Marco was just too young(he'd thought at the time) to even bring that up.

Yeah, right.

Marco had surprised him...again!  
Not only was he ready a lot sooner than Dylan expected...  
He knew...without ever being told...just seeming to intuit just how and where to touch...kiss...just everything that drove Dylan wild with desire!

He'd been like a kid in a candy-store!  
Self control...should we/shouldn't we, those questions never even crossed Dylan's mind.  
Now he felt like he'd used his young love.  
That he was only lately...after all the counseling...really learning to appreciate what they had.

There had always been the feeling that this was ...just kinda too good to be true...  
That one day Marco would see him for the fraud that he was...

How they never ran into any of his 'weekend conquests' was a mystery to Dylan, but one that could remain that way forever as far as he was concerned.

'Go for it!'  
Yeah, maybe he could...

Marco came out of the bedroom in his yellow bathrobe with a towel over one shoulder.  
He was smiling down at his flowers as he carried them to the kitchen to find something to put them in.  
As he walked by, Dylan smiled at the sexy sight; hair mussed from undressing, bare feet, well muscled legs, with all that straight, black hair...

Would fall ever get here?  
Marco would be moving in with him this fall.  
They were still arguing over the rent; as in Dylan didn't want Marco paying any!

Dylan's parents paid what it would've cost to stay in the dorm, and half the utilities. The sub-let arrangement he had with Jake covered the rest with some left over. He was sure that the way his parents felt about Marco, they'd let things stay this way after he moved in. Dylan's mom adored his young boyfriend, now she had someone to discuss classical music with.

Oh yeah, and let's not forget the Shakespeare!  
Marco and his mother really liked this boring, old crap! ( Dylan thought the guy's spelling was worse than his!)  
The two of them had read all of those plays, and could talk about them FOREVER!  
His mother found his attitude towards this 'highly amusing'; saying that now he knew how she felt when he tuned her out to talk about hockey with his dad or his teammates!

Marco insisted he pay his share.  
The battle continued.

A grinning Dylan finally took pity on Marco and his hopeless search.  
"The tea jug, excuse me, carafe is probably the closest thing we have to a vase!"  
"Fine, now I know what to get you for Valentines Day!" Biting his lips to hold the laugh in, Marco glanced at Dylan over his shoulder.

The look on his face was priceless!  
One little snicker escaped...and Dylan was on him!

"Oh, that was funny? I'll give you something to laugh at!"  
Wrapping an arm round him from behind, pinning Marco's arms, Dylan reached through the opening of Marco's bathrobe.  
Long fingers trailing lightly over his ribs and belly soon had Marco giggling helplessly,while he squirmed and wriggled, trying to get loose!

"Oh get a room!" This from Jake, who was leaning in the doorway shaking his head in mock disgust.  
Surprisingly he was only a little glassy-eyed...  
He and Glorianna could drink amazing amounts of wine, and talk for hours...among other things..

Dylan put Marco down, but held on to him.  
Marco turned in his arms, leaning his head back against his shoulder.  
"Hey Jake!"  
Dylan grinned and scratched his head as if really considering the advice...  
"Get a room the man says..Hmmm..."  
Looking down at Marco, whose long soft curls were tickling the side of his neck a little, Dylan wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and asked, "Wanna?"

The look Marco gave him through his lashes was hot enough to scorch!  
It rolled over and through Dylan like a wave, washing every other thought right out of his head.  
Marco smiled as Dylan's lips lowered towards his own; glad that whatever had been bothering him earlier wasn't anymore.  
His flowers could wait a few more...

The delivery guy managed not to laugh at the soap still covering one of Dylan's ears as he paid and tipped him. Though he wondered why any couple would choose that particular soap to 'play in the shower' with.  
Marco and Dylan liked 'ivory', because the scent faded quickly.  
Each thought the other's natural scent and taste better than anything else...

By the time they made it to the bedroom, both were a little tipsy and giggly from the bottle of champagne Dylan had told Jake to chill for them.

Dylan pretended to drop Marco, who was carrying(ice bucket and all) the bottle.  
This earned him a squeak, and more of the delighted giggles that made his heart and stomach flip. Setting Marco on his feet, he took the ice bucket and put on the table near the bed.

His joking around had dislodged the rose from behind Marco's ear; when he turned back, Marco had picked it up again.

Marco drew the rose lightly down the side of Dylan's face...  
He watched as a shiver ran through that big strong body...and the sea-blue eyes darkened...

Dylan grabbed his waist, lifting him and spinning them round.  
"Dyl!" Another breathless shriek and more clinging and giggling.

Marco was a little surprised when Dylan put him down...the absence of his touch seeming almost painful...

Dylan went to the dresser; lighting the candles there...then turning the ceiling light off.  
This was usually something Marco did.  
So of course Marco's mind went back to their first night with candles...

Then the music started...

Dylan, turning back to face him, pulled the faded Hockey shirt over his head...  
He (Dylan) just stood there for a moment...enjoying the view...

He'd bought Marco these pajamas: dark blue satin, soft and shinny.  
The bottoms ended about mid calf, allowing just a little of the long, dark straight hair there to show; that hair that was only a little coarser than what grew on Marco's head.

Marco glanced up, saw where Dylan was looking.

With that perfect dancers' balance, he drew one foot up the inside of his leg; resting the heel of it just below his knee...and just stood there...watching Dylan's face...

Dylan's lips parted slightly as he drew in a long slow breath, his legs shifting against a sudden... tightening...a heated stirring...  
His eyes came up to where Marco had rolled the sleeves so that they ended just below his elbows; the bottom of the shirt tied above his waist.

The admiration, and possession in the smile on his lovers face did shivery, delicious things to Marco's insides... and spread a lovely blush over his cheeks...  
He wondered if he'd ever get used to...  
That steady look, the desire in those incredible eyes...

They moved towards each other at the same time...as if on some prearranged signal.

Marco's hands moved up from Dylan's waist, till they were sliding into the still slightly damp curls.

One of Dylan's hands went to Marco's hair, fingers tangling themselves in the silky softness, the other took hold of him at the waist...lingered there...caressing and massaging...

The feel of that big, warm, long-fingered hand moving over him made Marco squirm.  
"Mmmm!" Was all he could manage; the way Dylan's tongue was exploring his mouth causing him to press himself closer...hold on to him even tighter.

The kiss ended slowly...with clinging lips, and long soft sighs...  
Dylan's hands slid up Marco's back to his shoulders and down his arms. Taking hold of his wrists, he placed on of his hands on his own waist. Lacing his fingers with Marco's, he smiled down at him, quirked an eyebrow...

And they danced...  
The music was old...because Marco loved a lot of old love songs...  
This was all Bee Gee's; songs of love and heartbreak, fast and slow.  
Unbearably sweet love, cheating lovers...holding on forever anyway...

Curled snuggly round each other, drifting toward sleep, Dylan trailed a finger lightly down Marco's back.  
"So how come you never asked me?"  
"Because, it always seemed like you didn't want me to. I'm glad you finally told me, I like it, and...now I don't need to worry about letting it ...slip out...and feeling weird." Marco said yawning.

Dylan's eyes opened in surprise.  
"What do you..!"  
"I mean", Marco mumbled into his boyfriends chest, "It just sorta fits...to me anyway...I've almost called you that lotsa times..."

That thing, the one that had told him to 'go for it'...

It washed over Dylan again now...

It was laughing!

This laughter sounded the same way his moms' had when he'd lost his voice for a moment ...when she'd mentioned marriage...

Right on the edge of sleep, he heard another kind of laughter.

This was mocking, derisive.

This laughter said he was a fool to believe that if he told Marco about his 'cheating' dreams he wouldn't drop him in a hot flash!

This laughter said he didn't have an ice-cubes' chance...


	12. Chapter 13

The Dream 13 **kdoc27** Current Location: pub. lib.Current Mood: contemplative Current Music: bee gee's/pink floyd

Part one: Only One?

'Not an ice-cubes' chance...'

Dylan's eyes opened ...  
Angry blue fire burned in the darkness...  
A smirk slowly tightened his lips.

Any of his former opponents would have recognized this look immediately.  
Especially the ones who'd landed in hospital...

His arms, gently squeezed Marco a little...bending so he could bury his nose in his lovers' hair, he inhaled deeply.

Now he could remember the look on Marco's face that night...  
The night he'd finally slept with Gyles...  
Dylan had thought that Marco was only a little jealous...at the time.  
It was only later, when his calls went unanswered...

Later, that soft 'Bye Dylan..' and the look in Marco's eyes, returned over and over to haunt and torment him.  
Seen that way, replayed with sharp, painful clarity, instead of filtered through...whatever they'd been drinking that night...and ...lust.

Oh yeah, THEN he got it!

Gyles...  
He was a real piece of work.  
The perfect 'once-in-a-while'!  
Somebody Dylan knew he'd never really care about, but who'd be wild and easy to bed; all he'd have to do was play the slightest bit hard to get.

This boy reminded him so much of his first lover...  
Beautiful, too aware of it. too willing to use that to get anything he wanted.

They'd been playing the game since their first meeting...

Gyles knew by then that Dylan had a boyfriend, but pretended to know nothing about him.  
The look in his eyes when He'd asked Dylan if he had a problem with gays was almost like...hell it Was a dare.

Then of course came the pretense of disbelief...

It didn't take Dylan long to figure him out though.  
It had been a long time since anyone had gotten to him without him seeing it coming... well besides Marco, but that was different.

This was just 'How close can you get without falling?' aka 'Hate the game, not the player'.

After what had happened to Dylan in Spain, James Micalchuk had decided to help his big lively, vivacious, unsuspecting son out with a few lessons in reading unsavory personalities.

Dylan had listened and learned well; this was something he'd need to have a really good grip on just to survive with his heart a little intact. A few trips to gay clubs, watching some of the 'action' had proved this to him pretty quickly.

Dylan was determined to never loose at this particular 'game', ever again.

It never occurred to him, at least to his conscious mind, that with a supposed 'true love', he shouldn't even have been playing it!

The heart, however, has it's own awareness, and will only let itself be pushed so far...  
Dylan had never thought about his feelings this way before, but he'd believe it after that night.

"I told him it's just sex, nothing serious.."

This had been Dylan's last thought as Marco walked away from him...

Yeah, right.

The idea of handcuffs had seemed like fantasy come true.

At first...  
Till it came right down to letting this particular boy put them on him.

Dylan looked into those greedy eyes; eyes that suddenly seemed to hold too many secrets...

Things that weren't just sex...

Things that had nothing to do with the here and now...

He opted for the supposedly more exotic right arm and left leg cuffing.  
It turned out to be everything he expected...with a few surprises.  
Nothing painful...well unless you couldn't handle being brought soo close to the edge, only to be stopped there...again and again!

Gyles brought him closer and closer each time...stopping and holding him back in a variety of ways...some completely new to Dylan.

It was when he finally felt that he'd teased the big blond enough...sure that this was too good for him to give up...that he'd be back for more even if his 'little' boyfriend objected... that it all went south.

With Dylan half-way down his throat, Gyles started slowly massaging the now almost too sensitive balls, and pulling on the string of pearls...pop...pop...pop...out they came...

Thinking smuggly, 'you're mine', he started to swallow, his throat squeezing the boy even tighter.

Oh yeah, that did it...

Dylan screamed out "Maarrrcccooo!"  
And convulsed so hard that Gyles swore he heard some part of the bed break!

He grabbed Dylan by the hair, put his face down close to his and said, separating each word so there could be no mistake: "No, it's Markarios!"

Dylan opened his eyes...

Eyes that went empty of all emotion as they focused on Gyles.

And vomited all over both of them!

If anyone had asked him if he thought he'd ever be in a situation where he thought throwing up on someone was cool ...!

He did now!

He smiled as he thought of it...

And to the thing that said 'he didn't have a chance'...  
Dylan whispered "F#K YOU!"

That wild exhilarated thing rose up in him again...  
Like it had just been waiting to see how he'd handle this..  
Like he'd passed some ...test.

Tightening his arms round him, he kissed the top if Marco's head.

The response was an answering squeeze, and a murmured "Caro mio.."

By now Dylan understood this phrase, it meant My Love!

He fell asleep smiling.

Part II Why You!

Sitting, waiting for his latest...slave to arrive, puffing lightly on the large, ornate purple Hookah he'd bought on a whim, Gyles Makarios Karagianes stared into space.

For some reason he'd been thinking about his last...mistake...  
All day...

Dylan Micalchuk.

The boy who'd walked away...

The boy he'd gotten too close to.

He'd seemed like such an easy 'mark'!

Big...dumb... blond...first time out on his own..

Beautiful, of course, strong as a horse, of course.

It was the gentleness...

The thoughtfulness...

That genuine...caring..  
And just...so many things he had no name for...well at least things he hadn't allowed himself to think about in ...forever.

But he saw them all again in Dylan when he was with...'The Child'!

By this time he should have been beyond even thinking of him.

For some stupid reason he'd had that stupid s#&t on the brain', all day long!

Something kept telling him to try again.  
That he could/should be able to have what he wanted...even if it looked like a 'lost cause'.

What could a 'little kid' like that have...that HE didn't?  
I mean...really, he didn't even have a car...could he even spell a Ferrari?

So what if he was in perfect shape for someone his size...he was a shrimp!  
Yeah, so he was carrying a nice 'package', but you got the feeling he didn't know it!

And forget talking about sex!  
He blushed if you said anything even slightly risque!

Dylan should have been blown away...consumed by lust and lost in toy-and-candy-land at least...

Gyles had thrown everything...every trick he knew into making it last as long was safely possible...  
That should have been enough to...  
Any other boy in his position( that brought on a smirk) would have been begging for more...even if he was in no shape to handle it!

It wasn't like he(Gyles) couldn't read people...

Reactions...interactions...  
Of course he could...  
He usually had no trouble turning a situation to his advantage ...

A word or phrase...turned carefully.

He'd watched the two of them together...

Dylan's, planned or not, proprietary way of being just close enough to 'his little Marco' to put up the 'Hands-Off' sign.

Like any other jock with his main-thing.

But like any other tough-guy, you could tell he felt he could do what ever he wanted and keep his 'cake'!

Sure, he knew Dylan had no intention...no real 'attention' for what he planned on doing after 'boyfriend' was gone tonight.

Gyles figured he'd have no trouble... changing his point of view.  
Why not?  
It wouldn't be the first time...

The kid would be 'heartbroken' for a while...  
But he'd learn not to play with the big boys...  
Especially not the 'jocks'.  
Jocks don't have hearts...  
Only cocks...

Watching Marco walk out the door HE read the look in his eyes...the tone of his voice..  
He could tell Dylan didn't have a clue...

And he was delighted!  
But he knew better than to show it...

"Your boyfriend jealous" he asked, seeming to still be focused on the door...but aware of Dylan's every movement.

"Yeah!"  
That smile...  
There was something...  
He should have paid more attention, but he was too glad the kid was finally gone!  
He'd regret that later.  
That one mistake in judgment...timing..

"For what?." Gyles replied.  
The look on his face was calculated to almost scream (unconsciously of course) that he wished Dylan was HIS boyfriend.

He wanted Dylan alright, but more to the point, that look was sure to make Dylan focus on HIM for now...  
And after all, when dealing with boys like this whatever had their attention now was the only thing that really mattered!

Dylan seemed to react as expected...  
Turning to him...looking at him with a knowing smirk...but taking a real... long... look.

Gyles, still stared at the door Marco had gone out of...waiting...

When he felt Dylan touch his hand he smiled inwardly...  
'Right on time', he thought..

He was going to blow the mind of/pants off this big, cute, meat-pie!  
Rock his world!  
'Doe-eyed', little-kid-boyfriend would be 'history' fairly soon.  
Yes, he was going to enjoy his new bed-slave...might even show him off to daddy on his next visit.

Dylan would love Greece...and maybe even...Gyles...

He could still see...  
Sometimes still dreamed ...

That night...  
Dylan.

He wondered still if he(Dylan) had really been afraid to go full-cuff...  
Or...looking back at it...just...unwilling.  
Dylan...  
Half drunk...giggling at almost anything...

His body responded to the image in his mind more quickly than it should...after all this time.  
Dylan...  
Blond curls spread on the dark-blue pillow..

That long strong, well muscled body all stretched out..

What was wrong with him?

It didn't matter.

So what if he'd been sure he was ready to ...

In the end he'd screamed out...

Forget it.

Yeah, so what if he'd gone by his apartment.

And what if it had been more than once...or twice.

The last time...

He saw THEM.

Getting out of Dylan's car.

F#K IT!  
He was in control...  
He could stop any feeling...any emotion...blank his mind of all of it.

So this time it might take a little longer...

He'd been there before...

Thats how he knows.  
Jocks have no heart.

Thats why you had to make the pay.  
Just sometimes...

No, he wasn't...

It would never cost HIM...

Again!


	13. Chapter 14

AN: To anyone who read the previous version of this chapter, may I most humbly apologize!:(:(:(

I somehow managed to publish the first draft, instead of the final one! I'm blaming the antihistamine, and the virus. They're gone now, so I can only blame this on my usual brain damage! Thanks very much for your patient suffering of it all ! D!

The Dream chapter 14 **kdoc27** Current Location: pub. lib. Current Mood: peaceful Current Music: alan parsons/Bee Gee's

Marco woke up warm and cozily wrapped up in his boyfriends arms.  
Very aware of where they were... just how they were.  
Especially aware of the part of his love that was twitching and swelling against his thigh.

And the answering swelling inside his pajamas...

Dylan was one of those people who could sleep through an earthquake!  
Loud noises, shaking him, calling his name...even his alarm clock, had very little effect on his slumber.  
He woke up, when he woke up!  
Period!

That was before Marco Del Rossi had entered his life ...and heart.

Marco, world-class worrier that he sometimes was, had found out the only exceptions to this rule by accident.

He didn't even remember now, what had made him so upset, but something had caused him to be awake in the middle of the night.

What ever it was had seemed so terrible at the time, that even being curled up next to Dylan wasn't enough to keep him from thinking about it, and mumbling to himself till he was miserable.

A few tears over flowed, and ran silently down his cheeks.  
Wiping them away with the back of his hand, he sniffled... a little.

Dylan was suddenly, instantly, awake and reaching for...calling to him.  
Wrapping him in his arms...telling him not to cry, that whatever it was he'd fix it ...kissing away his tears.

At the time Marco had been too glad of the comforting touch and caring words to even notice how amazing this was!

Later, whenever he thought of this; especially when Paige was fussing about how hard it was to wake her brother up, this memory brought a secret, somewhat mystified smile to his face.

Eventually Marco told her about it.  
Paige looked about to deliver a scathing reply, but then something had caused her to stop.  
As she thought for a moment; a faraway look, a sort of 'oh! thats why!' look and a delighted smile lit up her face!  
"Hot chocolate!" she exclaimed laughing.  
Marco raised an eyebrow at her.  
"All those nights, when I finally gave up on trying to get to sleep and came down to the kitchen to find him already there, making hot chocolate."

The other thing had happened on a weekend he'd stayed with Dylan while his parents were away...

There'd been a party.

By the time they got most of the clean-up done, they'd been too tired to do more than shower and fall asleep cuddling in Dylan's big bed.

Marco had wakened 'this way', a few times since their relationship had become... more physical...  
But only alone...and in his own bed!

His first reaction was such shocked embarrassment, that it hadn't lasted long.

A few times, still half in the dream that had brought this on in the first place...imagining it was Dylan touching him...

Waking beside his boyfriend, 'that way', he glanced up to be sure he was still asleep.  
Mistake!  
The sight of Dylan; right there...wearing only his briefs...the wild blond curls spread enticingly round his head.. warm, soft lips slightly parted...

He'd kissed those lips a thousand times...and still knew he would never get enough!  
'Why now?" he thought,closing his eyes, wishing this would... just go away...

Dylan rolled over...

One big, warm hand found him...moved over his chest... down over his stomach...  
Marco's breath caught, he took hold of that hand to stop it from going any further...

It felt soo good, the heat of it seeming to...radiate out from where it lay...spreading to super heat his whole body!

Marco felt himself throb!  
Dylan snuggled closer...his warm breath feathering teasingly against the side of his face and neck...  
Marco shut his eyes...breathed deeply...  
Another mistake!  
That delicious scent...toothpaste and Dylan...  
Licking his lips, one of his hands clenched into a fist... the other began to rub lightly, longingly, over the hand on his stomach...  
A small moan escaped through his clenched teeth..

Dylan's eyes opened.

'Maarrcooo...'

He'd wonder, later if he actually said it, or...  
The heat coming off Marco's body seemed to engulf him...wrapping him in a fog of desire.. His body was way ahead of his still half sleeping brain, reacting almost instantly to his Marco...wanting/waiting... for Him!

Before Marco even had a chance to register the change in his breathing...  
Dylan's mouth captured his, tongue sliding over lips...teeth...thoroughly exploring the warm, sweet, exotic spiciness!

The breath Marco drew in through lips parted in surprise and rising ardor...was all Dylan; warm, tangy/sweet!  
Marco's body tensed, then surrendered so sweetly into something that felt like a whole-body-buzz, as he moaned into his lover's mouth...  
Dylan's tongue teased...teeth nibbled lips...scraped over answering tongue...drawing out more moans.  
Moans that grew more intense as his thumb found Marco's navel...circled as his tongue circled his now so sensitive lips.  
Marco was soon clinging to him, and squirming against him the way Dylan adored most...all embarrassment forgotten...swallowed up by desire...

One of his hands was tangled in Dylan's hair, while the other moved lightly over his neck, nails scraping...fingers massaging.  
This bought a moan from Dylan...had him shivering, teeth closing lightly on Marco's swollen bottom lip as he groaned from deep in his chest.

"MMmmmm...baby you taste soo good!"

Marco reached for him, but he stopped him; lacing their fingers together as he slipped lower...licking Marco's nipples...

"Soo good!" ..to his navel..Dylan licked a wet trail lower...blew on it, making Marco shiver and grip him more tightly.

There was a wild, secret sort of gleam in Dylan's eyes as his head bent to his lover again...

"Ohh my...Oh GOD..!"  
The sensation of that hot, wet mouth closing on the head of him jolted through him like an electric shock!

It made Marco's hips jerk upward...curled his toes, and snapped his head back!  
His hand tugged painfully at his lovers hair.

Releasing him for a moment, Dylan took his hands...  
The hunger/need/demand in his eyes held Marco speechless.

Dylan brought Marco's hands down so he could hold on to the sheet..trailing his fingers lightly over Marco's arms while he got a grip...got a few steadying breaths.

"Please..?" Dylan breathed out. That one sip had him dying for more! He didn't even realize he was holding his breath as he waited Marco's answer...

Marco nodded, finally, and Dylan licked his lips, loving the wild heat in Marco's eyes...loving being the only one who could touch him this way!  
Bending he ran those wet lips slowly up the underside of Marco's erection.

Teasing himself, letting his own want build...

When he could feel his own heartbeat thudding in his ears, he kissed the tip gently, before..slowly drawing him in...

Marco's hands clenched on the sheet as his head snapped back, and a sound ...like keening rose from his throat.  
Dylan felt that sound...it broke over his body like a wave sliding over the beach..lava down the side of a volcano!

His hips jerked down against the bed... The deep rumble from his chest joining, almost harmonizing with that high, nearly unintelligible stream of Italian...

Looking up at Marco.. he felt his insides contract, his heart like it was being squeezed bay a huge fist...his breath locked in his chest...  
And there were tears in his eyes as he fell in love with this impossibly beautiful boy all over again...

The delirious joy on Marco's face...in his every movement did things to the big blonds heart...

Things he knew never be able to speak of...

Marco, who'd never imagined such a sensation, couldn't hear past the thudding of his heart...the roar of his blood through his veins..  
There were no words for...

Dylan waited till Marco's shuddering subsided a little...till his eyes opened..  
The look in them made Dylan's hips jerk again...brought another helpless groan up from somewhere lower than his chest...from his very soul...it seemed!

Marco tried to say 'I love you!', couldn't make his lips form words...

Dylan got it anyway...  
There was a smile in his almost glowing eyes as he whispered a breathless "mmMe tooo!"

Holding on to Marco's hips...he bent his head...again...

Taking as much of him as he could into his mouth, he began to gently, suckle...his tongue sliding over the delicious hot spiciness like it might never get another chance at anything this good!

Dylan heard Marco call his name, once...in such sweet desperation, then... only sounds that had never been/ could never be words...till his love screamed it as he burst hot and flowing down his throat.  
Dylan moaned and swallowed each delicious gush!

Tearing his mouth away at the last second, burying his face against Marco's stomach as he exploded,( and never-mind what he was whispering/nearly sobbing!) his hips grinding helplessly into the bed.

Oh yeah, Marco passed out.  
A totally destroyed Dylan lay there...shuddering and gasping  
Wanting to move...to go clean himself up.  
Unable to bear... the lack of this touch.

Or even the thought of it.

He finally crawled up beside Marco,

Pulling the sleeping boy into his arms and rolling them away from...'The scene of The Crime', as he was thinking of it now(with chuckle) he drew the cover over both of them.  
Dylan lay there a long time...trying not to think.

He'd never done that before.

With anyone.  
What was it about this boy...?  
What was he doing to him?

He'd never even thought about using a condom!  
He'd never done THAT with anyone else either!

He knew what his wild angel would want...when he woke up...  
The thought made him shiver a little.  
And he was glad they were alone in the big house!

Now, Marco lay here.  
Watching Dylan's eyelids flutter in his sleep.  
Listening to his soft sighs...feeling his desire grow with each one.  
He wished Dylan been drinking beer, then blushed at this, some what wanton thought; it took longer then!

He did need to be alert for practice tomorrow.

Maybe he should go easy on him tonight...

Besides, there'd be plenty of beer...after the game.

Dylan squirmed a little...

Marco closed his eyes...  
He knew it wouldn't be long...


	14. Chapter 15

The Dream Chapter 15 **kdoc27** Current Location: pub. lib. Current Mood: awake

And in this thing...  
This thing that so often feels, to Dylan, more like...picking up a story where they left off...

Dylan could never put things like that into words...before.

Now, having begun to get (at least some kind of) a grip on writing... on how to say what he means/feels...

It seems to him that the rest of life...at least of HIS life, is a story he and Marco are meant to tell...together.

Like he was just waiting for Marco to come back into his life ...so he could ..get on with it...

Theres no way for him to make sense of this, no way for that to make sense at all. He has never told anyone that this started with something like...

HE can hardly admit to himself that it was like 'love- at-first-sight'.

Just thinking of saying that out loud makes him squirm!

And the idea of...waiting for his 'other half!

But thats how he feels...

Like everything that happened before THEM, was just...preparation.

That feeling is always so much stronger...when they are loving each other...

Then, it makes perfect sense that... as they climb to this particular mountain-top...

Of course Marco should stop them here...just a few steps from the top...

To... appreciate the view...

Of course Marco's mouth, hands and body know...exactly when and where...and how gently...or how firmly...

Even though Dylan is surprised...always surprised by it, he is always willing...

How could he be anything else...?  
Who says no to the offer of lingering in heaven..?

Marco, Marco, Marco!

Yes!  
Anything!  
Just don't let go!  
Please, never let go...

Again!

In this place/space...their moans,whimpers, and sighs blending...perfectly...

Answering each other perfectly...

The trembling fingers that are buried deep in Marco's hair move unceasingly... the feel of that movement drawing sighs from Marco's lips... the feel of the silky softness they move through draw them from Dylan's...

Marco finds himself remembering the first time he'd let himself touch this long, strong, gorgeous body ... the way he really wanted to.

He smiles round his lover as he takes them a step or two closer to the peak towards which they  
are rising...

Marco remembers how perfect, how natural it had seemed.

How Dylan(and Dylan's body) had reacted to his touch...

Why should he be thinking of that first night, by the pond...now?...he wonders.

Dylan's alarm-clock clicks, as it does just before it goes off.

'Oh..!' Marco thinks, (remembering their watch-alarms from that night) as his lips gently release his lover for a moment.

The alarm-clock, if such a versatile instrument could be called that, was one of James Micalchuk,s graduation presents to a son who'd now have to learn to get up without his mother, or sister to help.  
It could be set for any amount of time, and had a wide variety of 'ring-tones'.

When Marco is here, Dylan keeps it set on the standard 'clock' sound.  
The sound Dylan prefers, is a rising high-pitched sort of a whistle; Marco says it sounds to him like a bomb falling, and hates waking up to it!

They'd forgotten Dylan wasn't planning on going to classes today...  
Probably the champagne.

Didn't matter.

Dylan doesn't wake quickly for alarms, no matter how loud.  
Marco smiles, as he thinks..'Good thing he(Dylan) doesn't want to be a Fireman!'

Counseling has helped Marco to be calmer, to take his time a little, be less willing to react instantly .

So...

When the ringing begins...  
Marco simply relaxes...and waits...

Dylan's nearly blind eyes blink...focus.  
A long arm reaches out...turns off the alarm...returns to Marco's hair.

Closing his eyes, the big blond inhales deeply as his body prepares itself to yawn...  
As the perfect, plump, pink lips part...Marco moves!

Placing his hand on his lover's thigh, curling his fingers...using his nails to scrape lightly up the sides of Dylan's body.  
First one hand...and then the other...nails crossing over Dylan's stomach...thumbs briefly circling his navel as Marco's hot wet tongue circles below...

Dylan tries to speak...  
"Mmm...Ahh...Ccc...Ohhhh!"  
Tries to get a breath...  
Marco's hands move down...over his lover's hips...squeezing...drawing him closer...  
"Oh...nnn!. Guh...oooodddd!"  
Dylan, finally gives up on words...as Marco rolls onto his side, pulling Dylan with him.

Dylan is sweetly encased at the back of Marco's throat.  
A thumb moves over a nipple...a circling searching finger sinks into him...another thumb moves over Dylan's 'twins'...as Marco begins to swallow...

Dylan barely gets the pillow up in time!

Before his shudders have subsided, Dylan is pulling Marco into his arms.  
One big hand moving down his lovers body...his lips and tongue sliding up Marco's neck to that so sensitive spot just below his jaw...

Marco whispers his love's name over and over as his body/world dissolves...

Dylan doesn't try to kiss him on the mouth...he knows better!

Marco just won't ...after; not till he's brushed his teeth AND used the mouthwash!

Dylan still doesn't really 'get' this, he has added it to his list.  
His Marco Things List.

Thats how he thinks of it...in his head he is making a list, well more than one, of things about his wonderful, lovely, incredibly perfect boyfriend.  
There are many things that he is sure he will never understand, but few that he doesn't find simply adorable!

Dylan settles for kissing him on the tip of his nose... shaking his head at what he'd rather do...till he thinks of something HE will enjoy, but knows will probably gross his young lover out...

Marco looks puzzled at the wicked grin that suddenly stretches his boyfriends lips.

Watching Marco's face, Dylan licks his hand!

Dylan thought the jaw-drop, and full-face-flash-blush, was entirely worth it! So of course he just had to follow it up with the 'Big-Monster-Laugh' and to pretend he was going to touch Marco with that hand.  
Marco beat him to the bathroom, and slammed and locked it!

Dylan laughs so hard, he has to lean on the wall next to the door.  
The door opened briefly, and a warm cloth hit him in the chest, before said door was slammed and locked...again!  
"I love you too! " he yells, laughing so hard, he slides to the floor!


	15. Chapter 16

The Dream Chapter 16 **kdoc27** Current Location: pub. lib.Current Mood: restless Current Music: Pink/Parsons/V-OldB.G's

Marco sat in the stands, 'reading', with his headphones and...his mothers opera glasses..  
When it was just 'practice', most of the lights were off. He could watch what he thought of as 'The Real Dylan', or Dylan The Warrior in action!

Marco had never given Hockey much thought. It was just another winter sport that his father yelled and screamed at on the t.v. They went round and round, it took a long time to score, they were really big, and they fought a lot.

Then this (man)boy with pieces of the sky...or was it the sea(he could never really decide which) for eyes had smiled...  
At him.  
Really, at, Him!

O.k., so maybe wearing a Maple Leafs shirt to school before he knew ANYTHING about Hockey hadn't been the smartest move.

But this boy was on, and not just on, but the STAR of the Hockey Team.

Dylan(All-That-And-A-Bag-Of-Chips)Micalchuk!

Yeah, Marco had 'noticed' him.

So had every giggling teen-aged(and some even younger) girl in school.  
Everybody knew Dylan was gay, but that didn't stop the following, and flirting!

He had looked Marco in the eye and smiled at him...and  
And Marco's world had stopped!  
It only lasted seconds.  
But such long sweet seconds...

Everything Marco had been thinking about was...just gone!

Their eyes met.

The breath-stealing, almost shocked delight that Marco felt in that moment, made his answering "Hi." come out so softly that only Dylan heard him.  
Dylan would tell him, eventually, that he really couldn't remember if he heard him or not; he was a little distracted.

He (Dylan) only remembers almost getting lost in a sparkling pair of dark eyes, in a lovely face, that was framed by hair even darker!  
And feeling really good all of a sudden!

That spark, that sudden awareness; it kept them glancing at each other... at odd moments.  
Neither of them really thought about it much...not consciously.

Later...

Marco had gone off by himself to try and get some kind of grip, not just display his misery and silent fears to the world.  
He'd had no idea what to say to his friends. They were really good friends, but this was just too big, too REAL!

This boy, whom he had just met, had come and sat on the rocks with him, and somehow...just his silent presence...had been comforting.

That night, as he lay in bed, replaying the day...  
dylan.  
Dylan.  
DYLAN!  
Was it just his imagination?  
Had HE really... looked at HIM...  
THAT way?  
Marco's heart pounded, and his breathing grew more erratic withe every thought of..."Dylan!" he whispered.  
Even saying his name felt good!  
Made him blush with excitement in the secret darkness of his bedroom.

Now, sitting in this almost private, semi-darkness...

"Thank you god, for eye-candy!" Marco whispered with a sigh, smiling at the delicious sight of Dylan in motion.

Marco had loved watching Dylan move from that first day at the beach; replaying his 'private' volleyball lesson over and over...

Now that he'd started figure skating, he could appreciate how hard those seemingly effortless moves really were; the strength and stamina it took to play this sport well.

Dylan made it look so easy...like he could do this all day; just a couple shots from the squeeze-bottles they use to drink from, laughing and trading jokes and punches with his teammates till his line was up again.

Sometimes, especially if they were just playing for fun, he'd switch and play defense for a while.  
Dylan had explained how much harder and potentially more dangerous Defense was.

His teammates appreciated how Dylan could keep track of where everyone was on the ice and how fast he could improvise when the guy he was supposed to pass to was too well blocked. They also respected the fact that he could hit really hard, and if he couldn't avoid a 'check', he could take hard hits and recover quickly!

'So tough!' Marco sighed, with a smug, possessive smile.

And falling?

Marco hated falling, hated that there just was no graceful way to get back up!  
But Dylan managed to make even that look like no big deal at all...  
When Dylan did fall, he was back up again so fast(and they all did it!)...it looked almost like an optical illusion...  
like walking on air!  
That, and the speed of it all; with so many people, and just so much going on at once; Marco was more amazed at this game the more he watched!

Marco used the opera glasses, so he could see his boyfriend's face...well mostly his eyes...  
Dylan's eyes seemed to grow a paler(almost as pale as the ice), ... when he concentrated on a play, or dealt with someone one-on-one!

He never seemed to start any fights...but he never lost one either!

While Marco was secretly proud of this, he still found it less nerve-wracking to watch practices, than games.  
Dylan's teammates weren't going to do him any real damage, at least not on purpose!

The puck, however, was another matter!

Just the idea that this thing was made of rubber, and could therefore take 'wild' bounces...  
Sometimes it flew all the way out of the rink!  
To Marco, this just seemed unnecessarily dangerous...if not just plain ...wrong.

The thin scar under his boyfriends' chin...the one most people never got close enough to see, was proof, at least as far as Marco was concerned, that the puck was dangerous!  
When Dylan had tried to explain the ways of making it 'fly' on purpose(the look on Marco's face made him double over laughing)...thought he didn't tell Dylan... Marco had a few nightmares!

And had he thought Dylan loved Hockey in high school?  
Now, with all the other players almost as serious as He(Dylan) is, not to mention that they are also his size or even larger, he practically plays in his sleep!

Now that they spend almost every weekend together, Marco has started giving Dylan a good massage after his games.  
Sometimes he thinks Dylan knows this is also his way of assuring himself he's is really o.k!  
There is just no way for Marco to feel good and fine with seeing some of the things these HUGE guys do to each other!  
The fact that Dylan is still growing too should make it o.k.  
"No sweat!" Dylan says.  
Sure.

And never mind how sharp the blades have to be...  
Nope, that was something Marco tried not to think about.

What Marco usually did was listen to the music, watch and just enjoy Dylan in action.  
Sometimes he asked Dylan about things he noticed that he didn't understand later.

He'd learned to watch plays develop, and which players Dylan worked with the most often.  
All these guys were good at the game, but his Dylan remained a Star.  
Now Marco was beginning to understand why.

The girls were still around too.  
Dylan teased him that the only reason Marco really minded was that now, the college girls only knew him(Dylan); unlike back in high school where Marco had his own share of female followers!

Dylan autographed whatever they asked him to, blushing deeply sometimes at signing 'chests' or thighs, but even as he did it he was inching his way closer to the only face he looked for after a game!

Dylan usually picked him up and spun him round...  
That was about all they did in public, even though Dylan's teammates knew.

They hadn't talked about tomorrows game beyond the fact that the parents were coming.  
Marco, eyes glowing as he watched Dylan remove his helmet to arm sweat from his face, thought today he might get in a little 'practice' of his own...

Marco was waiting for him outside the locker-room.  
Dylan scooped him up and spun him round, as always.

Marco smiled down at him, his eyes sparkling as he leaned down and claimed Dylan's lips!

Surprised, but totally delighted, Dylan kissed him back and held on to him even tighter!  
When they pulled back for a second, a slightly breathless Dylan quirked an eyebrow as he looked up at Marco.  
"Oh Yeah?" he asked.  
Sliding his fingers into the still damp curls, and lowering his face toward Dylan's again, Marco said "Yeah!"

Amid all the whistling and 'cat-calls', they also heard; "Hey, get a room!"


	16. Chapter 17

The Dream 16 **kdoc27** Current Location: pub. lib.Current Mood: pissed off Current Music: Roger Waters-PaCoH./Twisted Sister:T-Price, I believe in you

There were really only two rules about the night before a game...  
The first, no booze, was no problem for Dylan these days, even if it was a Friday-night.  
Sure, he still liked to party, but the party after a game was always more fun anyway!

The second, was no sex.

At first this had made no sense to either of them, and before the break-up, it was just a matter of not getting caught; Marco, usually so serious about following rules never even tried to talk Dylan out of breaking this one.

Now, by the time Marco got there most Fridays, they were both tired from a week of dealing with school, parents and the rest anyway, so a night of lying around watching t.v. and cuddling was really about all they wanted.  
Sometimes they went to a movie and brought home a pizza, or just ordered in.

They rarely broke the no sex rule anymore, Dylan was being more responsible, and the games were just too important right now.  
Besides, they both figured they were old enough to be able to just enjoy each others company without getting too carried away.

So, why, Dylan was asking himself, was the sight of Marco just driving them home turning him on so much?

Dylan could almost feel the smooth perfection of that clear, unblemished olive-tan skin on his fingertips...  
He took a long, deep breath, held it, let it out slow; this was supposed be a calming thing, or so Father 'Mo's pamphlet: 'Controlling Your Emotions-Act, Don't React' claimed.

He'd tried it a few times when he felt himself getting angry at some of his classmates, or one of his teachers, and it had seemed to work o.k.

Not that Dylan had ever had much trouble with his temper; his usual reaction, at least in high school, had been to do something stupid-but-hilarious to whoever, and who cared if it was teacher or student!

But, after his hard partying first few months here, he figured things hadn't cooled down enough for that yet, so a little more self control off the ice couldn't hurt, and Marco was really proud of this 'prank-free-season', as he called it!

Dylan cracked his knuckles, and stretched, closing his eyes and trying to will himself to relax.  
Some of the tension seemed to be easing.

Till he looked back at Marco.  
The dark sudden softness(and his lips knew exactly how soft) of the soul patch just under Marco's lip drew his eyes...  
The lush fullness of Marco's bottom lip...

Dylan could almost feel those lovely dark-pink lips pressed against his own, could almost taste that spicy/sweetness, feel his tongue sliding into that warm moist heat...

The long, soft, so dark curls; one of which the breeze was moving gently against the lovely curve of his boyfriends cheek...

Turning, leaning one arm on the back of the seat, Dylan reached over and brushed the back of one finger down the side of Marco's face.  
Marco glanced at him, smiling, and turning his head quickly to catch his lovers fingertip in his teeth, the sexy look in his eyes stopping Dylan's breath, even as the quick flash of pain/pleasure sent a shiver through him.

He leaned towards Marco, but before he could retaliate, Marco caught his hand.  
"I'm driving!"  
"Grrr! " Dylan replied playfully. " O. k., fine...just you wait..." He said, with a mock-threatening look in his eyes.  
"Dylan!" Marco was giggling now, and throwing glances at his boyfriend.  
"Thats fine, 'I'm driving!', good one babe!" The blond grinned as he teasingly lay a hand on Marco's knee, making him jump a little and shoot quick, anxious glances at him.

Dylan just grins at him, and leans a little closer, causing Marco to squirm an giggle even harder; even as he shoots wide-eyed 'Please don't!' glances, and (through his lashes)'Don't you dare!' glares at his teasing boyfriend.

Dylan is laughing too; stomaching flipping, his pounding heart a warm glowing thing swelling up to fill his whole body.

The hand on Marco's knee squeezes gently, as Dylan lightly kisses him on the cheek and slides back to his side of the seat; making a show of fastening his seatbelt.

"O.k.?" Dylan asks, holding his hands up in the classic 'I surrender' position.  
"O.k.!" Marco replies.  
"You sure, I mean I could..." Dylan says, as he mimes zipping his lips closed, then sits on his hands.  
Since he can't speak now, he raises his eyebrows in a question.

Marco, biting the inside of his lip, trying to look serious, pretends to consider this.  
"Yeah, good!" he says with a little smirk; "That'll work just fine!"

Dylan makes a sad-face; slowly lowering his head and letting his shoulders slump.  
The older boy sniffles once, glances at his boyfriend.

Marco pretends to not notice, being too engrossed in the task of driving.

Dylan whimpers and squirms, like a puppy that wants in your lap.

Biting both lips now, Marco looks at Dylan.  
His big, tough, Hockey-player boyfriend whimpers, and uses wide, sad blue eyes to beg for all he's worth!

"Awww, poor baby!" Marco coos; reaching out to scratch behind the big blond's ear.  
Dylan growls at him.  
"No, bad boy!" Marco says, pointing a finger at him.  
Dylan...being Dylan, snaps at the finger!

Marco, snatching the finger back, and laughing openly now, says"I knew that zipper wouldn't last long!"

The surprised look on Dylan's face makes Marco laugh so hard that the car swerves a little.  
Dylan thinks this over for a second, chewing on a finger nail.  
"Dog lips don't have zippers!" He finally says, actually looking pleased with this reasoning.

"Stop, please, no more!" Marco, pleads, holding hi laughter-sore stomach with one hand.  
Dylan stops his antics, and grinning, just sits there enjoying the sound of Marco's laughter.

Love...  
Fireworks and roses...  
A thousand nameless, heart-shaking fears...  
A million breathless, helpless longings...

A bright red thing full of cotton-candy rainbows and white-hot shooting stars!  
A roller-coaster ride: it's heights reaching into the clouds...the stars; it's depths the deepest darkest of pits...even to the bottom of the deepest sea...

Love, the star of this show, has retaken center-stage!  
Lust, having only a bit-part, waits...smoldering in the wings...

The only 'physical' thing that matters to Dylan now is the fact of this wonderful man's existence.  
That he is here, now, with him.  
In his life!  
In his car!

Something that feels...wonderful...but way too powerful, wise and wild, and...(Joyous?)almost frighteningly glad, wants to know if he thinks he can/will?

'If He will...', Dylan thinks, to himself, and who/whatever...  
"Hell yeah!"

Marco gives him an odd look...  
Has he spoken aloud?

Wouldn't be the first time...this boy does things to his head...as well as his heart.

On his face, there is a contented smile; the fingers of the hand now resting on the back of the seat have found their way into those long, black, feather-soft curls..

And in the mind of Dylan Allen Micalchuk, a plan to find out his boyfriends' ring size; without him(Marco) or Paige(who isn't the best at keeping secrets) knowing about it, begins to form...

marco.

Marco!

MARCO!

Of course they fell asleep on the couch; the movie they'd been really only half-watching playing itself out, and restarting.

Marco woke up when Jake came in to get ready for his date with Glorianna.

"Sorry!" Jake said as Marco got up.  
"Hey, no, it's o.k." Marco told him as he stood stretching and yawning."You hungry, we made glazed pork-chops ?"  
"Hmmm, 'We'!" Jake said, glancing at Dylan and raising an eyebrow.  
"C'mon!" Marco replied, with an eye-roll, and a knowing smirk, "He's getting a lot better, really!"

Jake followed him into the kitchen and over to the stove.  
"Glazed pork chops, wild rice, and Brussels sprouts." Marco said pointing, while Jake lifted lids.  
"The salad; red, yellow, and green tomatoes, and red and white onions in a nectarine-vinaigrette dressing, is in the fridg."  
"How'd you get HIM to eat Brussels sprouts?" Jake wanted to know.  
Winking at him, Marco lifted the lid off the cheese sauce.

They looked at each other for a moment before both burst out laughing; knowing they wouldn't wake Dylan.  
"He'll eat anything with cheese...or fried!" Marco said, looking pained, but still chuckling.

Dylan heard Marco laughing...

Marco was laughing as he opened the door.  
Well ...more like giggling...

Drunken giggles and snickers that turned muffled at times.

Raising himself up off the couch Dylan saw them...  
They weren't much more than shadows in the doorway.  
Till Marco reached out and flipped on the light...

Marco, his sweet, precious Marco...

And Jayeson...

The tall black Basketball-player lived a few doors down; his dyed pink hair and eyebrows had always amused Dylan, and though Marco had often chided him for being mean about it, he'd never given any thought to why...

"Thanks for walking me up!" Marco cooed, leaning heavily against the door; one hand on the taller boys' shoulder, his(Marco's) head tilted back, as he smiled and licked his lips.  
Smiling down at the younger, shorter boy; leaning in, bringing his lips close to Marco's.. Jayeson said "Thanks for 'getting' me up...all four times!"  
The slim, usually quiet boy kissed a still somewhat giggly Marco deeply.  
That explained the muffled sound of the giggles Dylan had first heard..

Marco?.  
How could he...?  
Why would he...?

The pain in Dylan's chest was hot, searing; round the sharp, cold blade that pierced him...slicing deeper and deeper as their lip-lock continued, till it was buried to the hilt in his heart.

Marco had his arms round Jayeson's neck now, holding on to him...pressing himself tightly against the tall, slim dark boy's body, the over-long top of the hot-pink Mohawk mingling with the long black curls.

Dylan couldn't speak...couldn't breathe: one hand pressed against his chest; he felt the heat of phantom blood ooze between his fingers...  
He slowly shook his head back and forth in denial of the sight that held his eyes locked wide open in shock!

"No, thank you!" Marco replied. "He just won't before a game anymore, and he used to be so wild and daring! 'What coach doesn't know won't hurt him' he'd say, I never thought he'd get so... "

"If you ever change your mind, you know where to find Me!" Jayeson whispered as he leaned in for another kiss." God! You taste so good!" He said, while kissing and tonguing his way down Marco's neck.

Each word was like a punch in the gut to Dylan, each movement of Marco's hands over Jayeson's body(Dylan could tell, watching them, that they'd done this before, this wasn't something new) twisted the knife in his dying heart...

Dylan had his arms wrapped tightly round himself, unable to speak or move, he could only sit there, shaking; paralyzed by this completely unexpected betrayal.  
He wished he could just...die.  
At least then he wouldn't have to see...to hear...

Jake was in the shower.  
Marco, having changed into his pj's came and sat down by Dylan; he(Dylan) was curled up, nearly in the fetal position, pressed deeply into the back of the couch with his arms wrapped round himself...and shivering, like he was freezing to death.

Lying down beside him, Marco wrapped one arm round his sleeping boyfriend; brushing the tangled curls aside, and kissing his cheek...

In his sleep, Dylan heard Marco yell his name.

The call seemed to come from the opposite direction...  
Turning that way..(he could move now?) he saw...

Marco was running down the D.C.S front steps.

The sun, which was setting behind Dylan, made the olive-tan skin seem to glow.  
Dylan, leaning on his car, opened his arms wide to catch his happily grinning young love, and lift him into a tight, welcoming hug.

Marco felt Dylan's body relax against him, as the older boy sighed deeply, a smile bowed his lips now, and he wasn't shaking anymore.


	17. Chapter 18

Current Location: pub. lib.Current Mood: pissed off Current Music: METAL

Chapter 18

Part A * pslm.25:03/37:19 **Luke;21:14

Marco couldn't sleep.

He lay in the dark staring at the ceiling; that place where the light from the parking-lot cut a long pale triangle that didn't quite line up with one corner of the room.

Head still buzzing a little from the half bottle of wine he'd managed to down one half-glass at a time.  
'Just a little more...then I'll be sleepy enough to..." he'd kept thinking.

In the dark, sitting on the floor by the bed, the bottle had been half-empty by the time he held it up so he could look through the dark semi-sweet liquid.  
There were stronger things in the kitchen, but that would make things seem worse than he thought it was...yet.

Dylan had woke up all groggy and still half in whatever dream he'd been having.  
Marco had led him to bed and lay there holding him till he was fully asleep again.

Dylan had licked his lips as he snuggled more deeply into the pillow.

And that, just that one little thing, had started Marco seeing/thinking of another tongue...moving over a much fuller set of lips...

Marco's breath caught in his throat.  
He stared at Dylan's mouth, eyes wide with shock;a guilt that froze his guts and made him flinch back from his sleeping boyfriend flaring inside him.

For just a second he'd actually seen...

Marco got the bottle of wine they'd decided against opening with dinner. He took the first half-glass to the kitchen, drank it while he put the remains of the meal away.

Dylan was turning into a pretty decent cook; at least he listened and followed recipes well.  
There was the time the page flipped because the book was new, and by the time Dylan realized it...  
'Best not to think about that ...' Marco shivered at the memory.

By the time he got back to the bedroom, Dylan was snoring, something he rarely did, but it had never bothered Marco... before.

Marco sat down on the floor by the bed.  
Dylan wasn't making that much noise, but down here it was even less, and besides he wouldn't see if he...

'Whats wrong with me!?' he thought, 'Since when does the size of Dylan's lips bother me?

Drink faster! That should do it!'Marco told himself. 'And think of something else.'

He poured another half-glass of wine, gulped it down and repeated this process a few times; trying to think of something else to think about, staring at the way the soft light fell through the smeared window.  
Maybe he'd clean it...tomorrow.

Marco held the bottle up, looked through it, thinking nothing but how the light looked through the dark bottle and even darker wine...

'How did it get..!?' he wondered, not realizing how much he'd drank till now.

Marco put the wine away; lay back down next to his now, really snoring boyfriend.  
Funny, now it sounded almost...good...soothing...just another rhythmic sound.

Come to think of it, he usually likes it.

Marco remembers mentioning it to Alex one time.

She'd snorted and rolled her eyes, but finally smiled gently and with a far away sort of look in her eyes as she said; "My ole man snored. I'd lay there and listen to it and feel all safe and..."

Then she collected herself, gave him a considering look, shook her head, and, punched his shoulder.  
"Yeah, on some guys, snorin's cool." she said with a shrug.

But Alex wasn't much for heart-to-heart chats, and it was time to get back to S. G. business as far as she was concerned.

Alex...

Marco still felt a little ashamed of the way he'd treated her before...

Her anger had startled him at first, and he'd reacted without thinking.  
Marco hated to see anyone belittled, or treated condescendingly, especially when it was him doing it!

That's how small frightened little bullies treat people.

Sure, he's been picked on by people like that, but it's ugly from both sides.  
Marco knows he's better...and stronger than that.

It's o.k. to be scared, but what you do about it is what matters...choices.

That night, he'd tried to pray about it...  
But anger was mixing with the fear and he wound up yelling instead!  
"Your people will not be ashamed*...!?...How!? What am I supposed to do if...when she gets up there and tells everybody I.. That I'm...!?"

Marco had his fists pressed to head, angry tears burning his squeezed-shut eyes.

And there was ...that voice...in his head/in his heart...  
So clear...though so...quiet..  
So easy to ignore.  
No...' He' doesn't push.

And he got it.

Marco had never really thought about Alex before...what it might be like to be inside her life.

The rest was like acting out a part in a play he'd done a million times.  
'**...not to prepare before hand to defend yourselves...'; Marco thought.

Sometimes the hard/easiness of it all...this thing that is called 'Christianity' is a little..frightening.  
Yeah, He is to be feared...to be able to see all this, from anyone's point of view...  
And 'do' something to/with it!  
Talk about 'Awesome'!

The knot in his belly eases a little, though Marco doesn't see why thinking about his pre-election jitters should make him feelany better now...

Dylan stirs a little, finds Marco and snuggles in closer to him.

Any other time, this would've been great, sweet and comforting, but tonight...

There are other arms on his mind; long brown ones.

'Why now...why tonight?' Marco wonders.

Yeah, he has thought about the boy before...but he'd never ...Do anything about it.  
Would he..?

Now he understands a little of why his mind has reran that conversation with Alex .

This isn't really 'Him' either.

All these thoughts...  
About Jayeson...

Part B (mood: even more pissed off!)

Marco remembered meeting the tall mostly soft-spoken boy at one of the parties in Dylan's old dorm...

Marco tended to find himself with a lot of friends who were...well true individuals.  
People with their own particular style and very serious about it.

That he noticed and liked Jayeson the first time he met him wasn't surprising at all; the kid had Hot-Pink hair!  
Ellie would have been shocked if Marco hadn't noticed and liked him, even before talking to him and finding out that they had similar problems.

It was the thick, full lips that Marco was for some reason thinking of now...  
The way they curl in at the corners...

His voice...so much deeper even than Dylan's.  
So much bass...  
When the boy spoke, or laughed...Marco could feel it vibrating inside him.  
Like his whole body was a tuning-fork or something.

He'd love to get him to sing sometime...maybe even with... but they'd be going their separate ways soon; his band.  
Still...  
What a voice.

And thinking about that first meeting...hearing that soft, deep voice in his head, Marco drifted off to sleep...

Marco has no way of knowing about Dylan's latest dream.

But the thing...the demon...who'd been given the assignment; "Separate Them"; way back on that second night that they'd made love,* had finally decided on a tactic that could at least confuse things for a while longer...

It couldn't 'make' Marco, or anyone else for that matter, do anything.  
But it could make ...very strong suggestions!

Humans were so stupid about thoughts, it chuckled to itself thinking of this; they so often just acted on a thought as soon as it...occurred.

With this pair, it knew, it would need to be extremely subtle.

It had to 'look' like something could be going on to Dylan, while Marco remaned unaware for as long as possible.  
To Marco a few well placed very violent 'hits'...deep longings, mind-pictures, a hint of ...well it wasn't sure what exactly just yet.

But this, tonight was good.

The young Italian boy was tired, still a little off-balance with all the goings-on with his father, and his boyfriends dreams getting more ominous.

There would have to be things that Dylan 'saw' and yet weren't enough to question...  
Things that could, possibly mean there was...something...maybe...going on.

What Dylan would have to see was Marco...seeing Jayeson, while thinking that he(Marco) was unobserved...

Oh, say walking by...bouncing a ball...  
Those long, strong muscles flexing, the brown skin glistening a little with sweat..  
A long look while the ball kept bouncing perfectly with his pumping arm..a barely heard deep vibrating 'hello'.

Marco's self-conscious over-thinking could look like...almost anything... to an already suspicious mind.

Another time, they should perhaps exchange a few words..which Marco wouldn't feel the need to comment on to Dylan.

Yes, the possibilities were nearly endless!  
It clapped the misshapen claw-like appendages at then end of it's arms together in gleeful anticipation.

It knew that Marco always second-guessed himself;didn't really recognize this as 'guilt' yet.  
That would be the end of that avenue of opportunity.

It hated 'born-again-Christians'!  
They alone knew that 'Their Father' didn't use guilt against them, no, He was too 'Loving"!  
It grew nauseous just thinking about it.  
His master believed, and rightly so, that fear and punishment were the way!

No, this wouldn't work on Marco for long.  
He'd figure it out and go running to his 'Father which art...  
But Dylan was still undecided...

How it hated the seriously born-again, or any other thing they chose to call themselves..

Every other so called 'religion' either served a dead leader, or... when it came right down to it psychology as religion, or even better; some thinly disguised simple hatred of all who weren't 'Them'.

Their master had made quite a purchase from that idiot gardener and his wife...

Then of course...the Son had finally arrived on the scene.  
And we made a mistake...  
But who would have thought He'd be willing to...!?  
The last one anybody would ever dream had been the only one willing to pay the necessary price.

And he'd been over two thousand years trying to convince them that it was done!  
That was the best part!

Most of them would rather believe they 'deserve' to be punished, had to try to keep all those 'commandments'...it was hilarious!

So you want it hard, it's master is only too happy to oblige.

By the time most of them figure it out they are someplace they can't make much difference from.

But this pair..

They could bring...well who knew how many to a 'church'.  
It's ugly features grew even uglier as it grimaced.

A church that is beginning to teach the truth about 'Grace'!

Yes, it would tread very carefully with Mr. Del Rossi...or it would get Jesus'ed nearly off this plain of existence.

Dylan, however was undeclared...and therefore not ransomed!

It lo-,ahem... well truly enjoys playing with the undeclared.  
They could be almost too amusing.

Though not quite as much fun as the ones who thought they could keep the commandments by themselves...

Part B

Next morning...

Marco woke early, the taste in his mouth made his toothbrush the first thing on his mind!  
Splashing water on his face,he tried to finish waking up,and to break the odd spell of the night before.  
He wondered why he was still thinking of Jayeson.

Marco remembered the first time he'd met him...

Listening to the sound of the words, Marco had completely missed what had actually been said...  
"Um..sorry, what did you..?" Marco stuttered, blushing and blinking up at the tall boy.

He didn't smile, but Marco got the impression that the boy knew exactly why Marco had to ask him to repeat the question...and that he didn't mind.

"You 'in'(and here he crooked his fingers, making q-marks) or just a 'visitor'?"Jayeson said with enough of a slur to show that he'd already had a few drinks.

"Oh. No, Dylan's my boyfriend." Marco told him. "I'll be coming here though,I just have to graduate first. It's gonna be along two years!" he finished with a slight shrug and a shy grin.

While Marco answered, the hot-pink brows had risen in surprise at first, then evened back out as he seemed to realize something, and grinned; chuckling softly.

Marco couldn't have said how he knew, listening to that lovely deep sound that he wasn't being laughed 'at' exactly.  
He just did.

He also realized that he'd missed something...

"No, I meant are you in the 'game' or just, ya know, tryn' it out?"

Marco, smiling a little, but looking at him intently, asked: "What game?"

"The swap-around, trading partners game..? I'm Jayeson, and I'm with Carlos...but he's in and I'm... not... really."

As he said this, his eyes flicked to the group over near the bar.

A tall boy with long dark curly hair and a mustache throws his head back; laughing loudly.  
The smaller red haired boy he(Carlos) has lifted off the floor squeals and clutches at the thick muscular arms that are wrapped round his waist.

Marco notices how the redhead's fingers move over the dark thick hair on the bigger boy's arms.  
When he looks back at Jayeson, Marco sees that he has noticed this too.

He has no name for the look on the pink-haired boy's face, but the hazel, almost gold eyes finally rise and linger on the taller boy's face.  
Whatever he sees or doesn't see there makes him able to smile again,even as he shakes his head a little and turns back to Marco who is suddenly not having a good time at all!

"You mean they...they..!?" Marco stutters, swallowing, unable to bring himself to even say it.

Jayeson just shrugs a little.

"It doesn't mean anything... Just 'weekend Thangs'. We mostly always leave as the couples we are, unless..." he trailed off, his jaw tightening for a second, the gold eyes narrowing.

"But the next day there is lots of elaborate apologizing! I get breakfast in bed and more jewelry. he finished grinning and gesturing to the gold chains and wiggling his fingers so Marco noticed all the rings.

That was a lot of gold and jewels, but the eyes above the grinning lips looked almost haunted...

Marco had looked over at Dylan then, really seeing how close he was to Giles, and the smug looks on a few other faces in the group.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

In the mirror Marco sees how haunted his own eyes look just remembering...

For him and Dylan all that is in the past.  
But for Jayeson and Carlos, the 'games' go on...

Well for Carlos they still do...  
And because of that, they are more on and off than a steady couple.

Marco assumes that what happened last night probably started out as a 'heads-up' that Jayeson will soon be coming to talk to him about it all again soon.

The rest was just...

Yeah, he probably twisted it with his own attempted (not quite 'lying') denial...\

Fr.'Mo often asked a question;right at the end of a session...that he might or might not bring up in a future one.  
Sometimes it was just to make you think or realize something about yourself that you hadn't noticed.

Both boys usually found these something else to worry about.

No matter how much they love each other, they are still Male, and have/feel a need to not look(or be perceived as) dumb/weak/needy...or worst of all...Wrong!  
Especially to each other.

Like not wanting to be the FIRST to say 'I Love You'!

Marco would never forget that Dylan had said it first:Dylan would never forget the look of hero-worship on Marco's face when he did.

One day, Fr.'Mo had asked Marco "Is it not amazing to be able to communicate a thing to...someone...without even speaking...and in a way that only they will( he stopped, searching for the right word, then smiled having found the one to suit his meaning ) catch ?"

Marco had opened his mouth to say something or ask what he meant exactly, but the priest raised a hand, stopping him and continued.

"And isn't it amazing how if it's done with enough...subtlety a person can 'feign' complete innocence and make the other ...person, a little crazy till they decide to admit it ...or not?"

He then ushered Marco out, telling him to have a good weekend;looking satisfied with the confused/considering look on his(Marco's) face.

Marco had asked his mother what she thought it meant.

She had smiled and told him that they 'must have a talk', but not now; she was too busy.

"But for now, why don't you ask Paige...yes, I'm sure she can tell you...something!"Rosalia had looked very amused as she told him this, which only left him more puzzled...and now a little apprehensive!

And boy, had she!

She had finished, half giggling, with;  
"Oh Marco, you can,and sometimes do, play my big dumb brother like a...piano!  
If it weren't you I'd be worried, but you're you, and I know you love him, so I'm o.k. with it.  
You'd never use it to hurt him. Besides, you tent to not even know you're doing it, so it's kinda fun to watch!"

Then she'd made a face and said; "Damn! Now you know though."

Narrowing her eyes she'd looked at him...almost like when she was plotting something, then she snickered; "You're still so wet behind the ears when it comes to...flirting...it'll still be fun to watch!"

"Great! Thanks a I can keep you so amused!" Marco had replied rolling his eyes.

They'd gone back to their homework, but Marco couldn't help thinking about all she'd told him.  
It wasn't exactly...lying...or...forcing Dylan to do anything...  
But ...

As Paige was getting ready to go she put a hand on his shoulder and smiled at him; "Don't worry about it hun. You two are like an old married couple! Stuff like that is just part of it.  
She looked at the ring Spinner had given her not long ago, but she didn't look happy.

"It's when you don't have things like that..."

Alex was pulling up in Paige's car then, and honking the horn.

"Paige, what..?" Marco started to ask.  
"Nothing. Night hun!" She kissed his cheek then ran for the car.

XXXXXXXX

Of course Dylan had been wide-open after that kiss in front of(Dylan's teammates) everybody.  
Then there was biting his finger...and the rest of it in the car.

And the two of them cooking together or just watching Marco preparing a meal by himself had always been a turn-on for Dylan.

Jayeson and Carlos' relationship problems, as well as his own mild attraction/fleeting desire for the tall boy with the beautiful deep voice hardly mattered now.

Marco was soon lost in thoughts of how to make up for 'accidentally' teasing his boyfriend so much..and just how they could release all that...tension!

Dylan woke to the smell of brewing coffee and frying bacon.  
He lay there stretching and breathing deeply, thinking there were no finer early-morning smells than those...well, except for those along with warm after-sex Marco mixed in!

He could picture Marco in the kitchen, humming a little with the radio.  
Talking to himself(and the food) in lightening-fast Italian as he sliced, chopped,and shredded.  
"Ora, comportati bene!"..to the bacon,which always comes out perfect;rippled,and evenly done.  
Dylan is still amazed at how Marco gets the long thin whole-strips into the pan in the first place!

"NO, non è un anche un po 'di più ... sarebbe troppo!"...to the vegetables being chopped and cheese to be shredded; he says that if you don't tel them, they always try to make you use more!

God, he loves that boy...

His dream from last night ran through his mind,and he shivered a little, his shoulders tightening, a grimace replacing the smile.

Dylan through the covers aside and sat up.

He'd rolled to Marco's side of the bed, so he saw the nearly empty wine bottle and the glass.  
'Nope,don't even...' he told himself as the ugly thought tried to form.

Getting up, heading for the shower, Dylan concentrated on the smells coming from the kitchen, and the images they conjured in his mind...

By the time he stepped out of the shower, he was thinking about how he could get Marco in the mood for a little...oh, say...snuggle time.

Dylan wrapped his arms round Marco from behind..."Hey!" he said softly..squeezing firmly... kissing the top of his head...giving him a little peck on the cheek before turning to get the juice from the fridge.

"Hey." Marco said back to him, closing his eyes, enjoying the hug...the scent of his freshly showered and cologned boyfriend.  
Before he got really into it though, it was over...the arms sliding from him, the warm body retreating.

Marco turned, but Dylan was already opening the door of the refrigerator.  
The view was nice though...  
The dark-blue shirt showing the play of muscles along his back and shoulders like a second skin.

He'd expected his big, seemingly 'eternally hungry-but always in a hurry to get through a meal' boyfriend to wolf down his breakfast as usual.

But after the first bite, Dylan had closed his eyes like the omelet was the best thing he'd ever tasted!

When Dylan opened his eyes,The look in them, and the smile on his face were soo adoring and adorable that Marco's breath caught, and he blushed with pleasure.

Dylan, thinking(and with no guilt at all)that if he'd already gotten him to blush that way, his plan must be working...chewed slowly.

Sneaking looks at his younger, less experienced lover...trying not to get caught looking...squirming with the effect his own thoughts were having on his body, Dylan couldn't wait to be finished...

Volunteering to do the dishes, hurrying to get them done; at least Marco couldn't see the shape he(Dylan) was in while he was facing the sink!

Dylan thought he'd pulled it all off nicely, could practically feel Marco under him,almost feel his tongue moving over those lovely lips;see himself grinning at the ease of this chase that Marco didn't even know was going on...

Till Marco put his arms round him from behind...

One of the small almost too warm hands slid up...pulling his shirt out of his jeans...finding it's way under it.

The other moved lower...pressing firmly...caressing...one finger drawing curling designs along the length of what it discovered...

Dylan's hands griped the edged of the sink;eyes closed, lips parted as he tried to breathe in enough to speak.

Marco half laughed with his lips pressed to Dylan's hair; the blond's head was thrown back, cords on his neck standing out.

"Oh Shit Marco!" Dylan managed at last.  
"So when exactly does the game start?" Marco asked...


	18. Chapter 18 The Dream J

Part A

Dylan's first game didn't start till 10:30, though he needed to be there at least an hour before, to get changed and practice.

Marco knew this of course, but making Dylan struggle to pant and groan out the words while he teased him unmercifully was still just so hot!

And besides, it served him(Dylan) right for teasing so hard in the first place...  
Dylan rarely blushed, but that together with all the careful squirming had finally clued Marco in to what was going on.

"Well...if we've got that much time..." Marco drawled with his lips next to Dylan's ear, the tip of his tongue flicking out to trace round it's edge.

The door bell rang.

"Fuck!" Dylan ground out between clenched teeth.  
Marco wrapped his hand round Dylan's waist, mumbled against his warm back...  
"Guess not..."  
Dylan swore he heard a little snicker on the end of that.  
"Maarcoo!" Dylan whined, trying to get him to just ignore it.

"No way! With the parents and who knows who else coming for the game today, it could be anybody."  
"Shit! You're right, but...I really can't..."

"I know, I'll get it while you um..calm down?" Marco told him.

There was definitely a grin in his boyfriends voice this time!

"Oh shut up!" Dylan yelled a little breathlessly, throwing a plastic cup at a now snickering Marco as he headed for the door.  
"Hey! Watch it, I could ride back with the folks...Tonight!" Marco threatened still laughing.

"I could tie you to the bed!" Dylan yelled, sounding a lot better, like he might be giving this some serious thought.  
"And tell who-ever it is their dead!" he finished, thinking 'That's it! we're getting a Do Not Disturb sign!'

The door bell rang again.

"Coming!" Marco called with just a hint of a smirk and only the faintest of blushes.  
"It's probably one of YOUR teammates anyway!" he yelled back at grumbling lover.

Marco opened the door with a pleasant half-smile, looking slightly upward, since very few of Dylan's friends here were his height...

It was Jayeson.

He had a basketball under one arm, and the look on his face pretty much matched his clothes.

Jayeson, minus the 'bling', was wearing a gray sweatsuit, gray gloves, a gray knit cap...even his leather Nikes were gray.  
The bit of pink 'hawk' that hung below his cap even looked...sad.

"Hey." he said. The word came out deep and short...barely more than a vibration.

"Hey." Marco returned, but with as much caring and concern packed into that one syllable as he could manage.

The taller boys' eyes seemed over-bright as he stepped back...glancing the wall and back at Marco...licking, then biting his full almost burgundy-colored bottom lip.

For...just a second..  
Marco's eyes lingered...  
On those lips...  
Just for a second...he almost feel...

Marco shook his head once, quickly, as if clearing it.  
"Um...yeah..." he said as he stepped outside and closed the door.

When Marco came back inside, he went straight for the coffee maker, pouring a cup and wrapping his cold hands round it.  
That was how Dylan found him, staring off into space, almost huddled over the cup.

"Marco...what?" Dylan began to ask.  
"Jayeson." the still shivering boy said, without looking up.

It was just as well that he missed the look that came into his boyfriend's eyes at the mention of that name.

"And what did 'pinkie' want?" Dylan asked rolling his eyes,and folding his arms across his chest.  
"Dyl." Marco said tiredly.  
He did get tired of asking Dylan not to be so...mean about his friend.

"And why couldn't he come in, instead of lurking..." Dylan started, but Marco broke in;

"He wasn't 'LURKING'! He knows how you feel about him, o.k.? It's kinda hard to miss.  
He thinks it's because you haven't forgiven him for being the one to tell me.."

Now, Dylan cut him off; "That's NOT why!" he said, almost shouting it.  
"Then..why?" Marco asked frowning up at him.

"I don't know...o.k.? I just ..."  
Dylan's words trailed off.

Dylan thought back...  
He had met Carlos at a party of course, and Jayeson his pink-haired, basketball-playing...'caboose' (yeah, that's what they'd all knick-named him) had just never seemed to really fit in with the rest of them,

He always seemed to just be following Carlos wherever he went; even if it was only with his eyes.  
Jayeson never took part in the 'game', at least not unless he was really drunk, and someone practically begged.

That happened a lot once people heard him sing; he had a really killer bass thing going, but he didn't sing till he got so wasted he could hardly stand up.

Dylan remembered the time Marco found out from this spaz what was really going on with his 'new friends'.  
Sure he'd been pissed; but he hadn't found out about the 'telling' till later.

The reason Dylan had finally left the group, dragging Marco with him, had been that Jayeson had started singing along with Marco.  
And the kid hadn't even been drunk yet!

Come to think of it, that was the first time Dylan had seen the tall black boy spend that much time talking to anyone besides his asshole boyfriend.

Marco had seemed way more into the conversation and the singing than he should've with someone he'd just met.

And never-mind how good they sounded together!

"Hello? Earth to Dylan?" Marco almost had to yell to get his attention.

"Hmm...oh, sorry, what?" Dylan asked coming back from these unsettling thoughts.

"I said he's gonna give me a ride to the game. We need to talk about something and it's ...kinda...private." Marco repeated.

Dylan just blinked at him for a minute, unable to think of a good way to respond to that.

"Ooo.k..." The tall blond finally said, with just a little suspicion.

"Will you stop it? It's not like he wants to run away with me or anything!"

Jayeson and Marco are on their way to Dylan's game, singing along with the radio, and taking a break from their problem-solving/brainstorming.  
Marco has his eyes closed at the moment; which Jayeson has noticed,the look on his face says more than he has been telling...

When the car turns onto a side street, and accelerates for a bit; causing Marco to have to brace himself on the door for a moment he opens his eyes, glances at Jayeson.  
Not really alarmed, sure it's just a thing; like Dylan liking to tear off suddenly from a complete stop.

But looking round, Marco doesn't recognize the neighborhood...at all.

"Hey, what are we doing here?" he asks his friend.  
"Oh, I just need to meet a guy for a second, pick up something."

Assuming it was the ever popular 'bag' that most of these boys seemed to think was necessary...for almost EVERYTHING, Marco simply shook his head and told the older boy to try not to get them arrested;  
"I mean, Dylan's mom is a lawyer, but she might not appreciate it too much!"

Jayeson grinned at him, "O.k., funny man." he said, as he got out and closed the door.

Marco checked his messages and sent a couple of texts, then decided to call Dylan to tell him that they were on their way; Dylan had just picked-up on the other end when Marco noticed three big guys headed towards the car!  
All three of them were wearing dark hoodie's and ski masks.

"Dylan!" he yelled in alarm.

"Dylan?" Marco asked again, picking up a ketchup packet from the table, throwing it and hitting Dylan in the chest with it!

"What?!" Dylan exclaimed, jumping a little as he came out of his daydream.

"I SAID, that means I better give you a proper good-luck kiss before you go, so who's driving today,and how long have we got?" Marco asked, getting up and putting his arms round Dylan's waist.

Dylan smiled down at his young boyfriend as he slipped his fingers into the soft black hair, tilting his face to give him the perfect angle to attack his mouth.

Dylan left a very disheveled looking Marco to run and get into the car with his gear when his teammate honked the third time; really laying on the horn as well as leaning out to yell obscene things out the window!

The big Hockey-Player seemed all charged-up and ready to go by then.  
You'd have thought the upcoming game was the only thing on his mind!

Unless you saw the expression that came into his eyes as he spotted Jayeson's car pulling up in front of the steps leading up to his apartment...

The guys practiced hard, sometimes accidentally hurting each other in the session before a serious or 'important' game as the never would before one that didn't count for much.

Coach said not to worry about it, that in a little while they wouldn't have the energy for such unintentional roughness, or they'd be too conscious of the possible loss of money!

Today, though Dylan tried to just get loose and practice some of the harder new shots he'd been learning, he still kept seeing the basketball-player in his head...

Scenes from previous parties, times he'd spotted him 'lurking', waiting to talk to Marco...about Carlos of course...always...

At least that was what he SAID!

Scenes from his dream of Marco sneaking out to be with him...

Little flashes of his kidnapping-daydream.

By the time his team took the Ice, Dylan had decided to just play it off...  
Anyone who got in his way could be Jayeson...

By the time the game was over he'd have a grip...  
And there would be no chance of letting any of this slip out and cause Marco to worry about his sanity.

But in the mean time...


	19. Chapter 19

* 'Destined to Reign' Dr. Joseph Prince: A/N: O.k., he didn't say it FIRST, but he's one of the best sources if you're REALLY interested!

19-A

The game was won.  
Winning a 'Home' game was always the best!

The score had been 2 to 5, a rare thing that would be remembered and talked about over various beverages, at several parties for more than just that weekend.

And by more than just the fans.

There was a certain group that sat down near the front.  
A relatively serious, but quiet bunch in suits.

These fellows noticed a great many things...

For instance; the 'forward' who played more like a defenseman, and who's coach kept looking out into the stands each time said forward viciously stole the puck, and sent someone flying, or checked someone into the boards and held them there only to drop them and skate off as if looking for the next place to attack.

The kid could really skate, and take hits as well as delivering them.

Though the one goal he scored seemed more like a personal attack on the goalie than anything else.

This was the kid who was supposed to be gay?

Yeah, his coach had seen Dylan this way before, but not since he'd gotten things straightened out with his boyfriend.

Not seeing Marco in the stands for the beginning of the game, he wondered if something else had happened and kept an eye on Dylan while glancing back every now and then to see if Marco would show up.

When he finally spotted Dylan's boyfriend coming in with one of the Basketball players he frowned; not sure what this might mean, and if he should be worried or not!  
Looking back to the bench where Dylan's line was getting ready for the next 'change' he saw Dylan looking into the stands, spotting the pair; the look in his eyes, if anything got colder...

Oh yeah, it was Dylan in the next face-off.  
The other team had sent out their biggest player!

Dylan flicked the puck to one of his 'mates, and hit the big guy so hard that when they stopped sliding and Dylan got up, skating off to join the fray, the kid was out cold!

Hearing Marco screaming his name, even above all the others yelling, Dylan grinned for the first time during that game.  
The line on the bench was chanting 'Killer, Killer'!

The suits noticed this as well.

Some brave, and irate soul from the other team grabbed Dylan's jersey...  
Eventually the game went on.  
Mr. irate sported two black-eyes for a few days.

Dylan's teammates seemed to have nick-named him "Killer' by the end of the game, but so what...it probably wouldn't last long.

There had been too many serious fans that wanted their programs signed for the 'groupies' to wade through or wait for, which also suited Marco and Dylan just fine!

Marco had blushed madly, but kissed him anyway when Dylan got through the crowd.  
Dylan was so glad and proud he thought his heart might explode as he squeezed his love even tighter as the flashes from all the cameras nearly blinded them.

Carmine had only blinked a little at Jayeson's hair; but the fact that he played ball and was one of the 'stars' of his team helped Marco's father feel better about that.  
Carmine was even a little dissapointed when the tall boy couldn't join them for the meal; he, Fr.'Mo and Jayeson had managed to talk a little Basketball, even with all that was going on!  
Rosalia and Ellise over-hearing part of that conversation had glanced at each other and smiled, shaking their heads at this.

Dinner with the parents turned into the guys talking Hockey, and the ladies planning a real 'Coming-Out' party for later.  
They at least managed to agree that it would be held at Dylan's parents' house, just so everybody would, or at least might fit!

The happy couple was toasted and made 'official'; they felt so glad of this, that they were more than a little amused that the families seemed to think something more was necessary.

Carmine was a little quiet till the talk returned to the game. Then it was Marco's turn to get a little quiet; though his meager but growing knowledge of the game managed to make Dylan glow and squeeze his hand whenever he did comment.  
Dylan was glad that his young boyfriend had started to enjoy the game a little more, at least he seemed to enjoy watching him!

Dylan's game schedule had to be taken into consideration for planning the party.  
This reminded him that his next game was 'away'; now that he knew Fr.'Mo really might be able to help with the problem of his dreams, he didn't really want to keep everything that was bothering him inside till next Saturday...

So, when the priest excused himself and headed for the washroom, Dylan put down his napkin and followed.

Fr.'Mo came out of the stall and smiled at Dylan who was sitting, swinging his legs on the counter.  
As he washed his hands, not even looking at Dylan , he said;  
"Yes?" knowing the big blond well enough by now, to know that it still might take a little prompting for him to get to the point even though he had sought him out on purpose.  
"Um... Do you think I'd need to...tell Marco about... See... I...(here Dylan stopped, clearing his throat and examined the wall, frowning at it as if his lost words might be written there!) Before... we got...well... Before we actually were ..." Dylan tried.  
Fr.'Mo decided to try and put him out of his misery by taking a guess at what might be the problem;  
"The young man...ah...Jayeson I believe, seems troubled. And a little...oh shall we say ..'wary' of you?" he asked gently, glancing sideways at Dylan.  
"Not you too!? Did Marco say...?" Dylan began.  
"No, but the boy practically ran at the end of the game, and after all these years, reading Marco's expressions is not so hard. So?" he asked, examining his fingernails with great care.

Dylan looked at the floor as he replied.  
"His boyfriend was...is, part o f the bunch of guys I was so into hanging out with when I first got here. He's...more like...Marco. He tried it a few times, but you could tell his heart wasn't in it. I guess he...kinda made me feel...guilty.

But he's not, ya know? I mean if I'd had even half a brain I would've known Marco wasn't gonna stand for that, not for long anyway! This guy, he just..takes it! I mean, they break-up for a while, but he always lets Carlos talk him back, or bribe him back with jewelry. And in between, he just... I mean he never shows any ba...um, guts." Dylan looked at least a little embarrassed for what he'd almost said.

"O.k, yeah, he comes to Marco to talk about...things, but..." Dylan let the words trail off, he couldn't really bring himself to tell Fr.'Mo that sometimes he wondered if that was all that went on between them...

Like the time he'd gone over to pick Marco up from Jayeson's, and found them drinking these little half-size bottles of wine and having a sing-a-long.  
Marco had...kissed him when he said goodnight; holding on to him with his arms round his neck, the tall boy bending over him with such ease for someone so tall.  
Like he'd had lots of practice.  
But Carlos was even taller than Jayeson...

And the way they'd sounded singing together...  
The harmony was just so...perfect...too perfect.  
Like they'd been singing together for ever.

Dylan didn't want to be the kind of boyfriend that couldn't stand for his love to have other friends that weren't both their friends; he knew Marco wouldn't stand for that either, and after all they did have separate lives.

But something about the two of them together just...felt like something he might never have with Marco and it just made him...uneasy...  
He wanted to be the one that could share/do anything with his Marco.

"Look, do you.. I mean if something happened...and it was...like a long time... I mean like before we even..." Dylan looked away, glaring around at nothing; bouncing on of his clenched fists on his leg as he huffed out an exasperated breath, still unable to put this worry into words.

Fr."Mo had removed his glasses now and was polishing them thoroughly, giving the clearly very disturbed boy time.

The look on Dylan's face is... almost...haunted.

There are some dreams he will never tell anyone about...

Like the one where he's standing outside some club: looking through the window.  
Inside there is a big loud crowd all forming a circle round a dancing couple...or well...really just one boy who's taking turns dancing with all of them.

And every one of them wants to be next to dance with this gorgeous, sensual, siren of a boy.  
Some of them even running their hands over themselves and groaning as some of the moves turn them on so much they've become noticeably erect and... ready!

In the sudden flashes of bright light Dylan can see their faces...  
And he knows them all.

They are all the different boys and men he has ever slept with or even thought about sleeping with!

But the worst part is seeing the one they all crave; how much more beautiful he is than all of them.

How his body moves in the flash of the colored lights, it's like watching someone who was born to dance.  
To be able to move his body in ways that call to his admiring watchers and keep them so hypnotically locked in that they have forgotten that it's a public place...

Oh yeah.  
It's Marco...

But no matter how hard Dylan pounds on the glass no he can't hear him.

The others do once in a while...  
But they only look back at him and laugh before turning back to the spectacle/spell they're so lost in.

The very worst part is the bouncer at door...

A huge, way too tall and more thickly muscled than he ever will be Jay blocks the door;he's wearing a tux and a captains-hat.  
And he is laughing and screaming at Dylan: "Too late pal, you had your chance! You had your chance and you blew it! You blew it!"

Fr.'Mo had been waiting patiently but also watching the emotions that chased each other across Dylan's face.  
He had felt the boy seem to go farther and farther away from him, the very air seeming to grow colder and thicker...harder to breath...and...darker...as if even the light was being leeched out of it...

He really must spend more time studying these questions and their potentially amazing ramifications!  
He whispered under his breath; 'In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti ', gathering himself, seeking guidance before he began...

The priest laid a firmly griping hand on Dylan's hunched, slightly trembling shoulder;  
"Dylan, at the risk of showing my still abysmal ignorance of the full nature of homosexuality and how 'feminine' your feminine-side is, I'll take a 'stab-in-the-dark' and say...let the past BE the past. You two are sure of what you feel for each other now! The devil loves to 'guilt' us. In Grace,* WE ARE NOT-GUILTY! Remember that, cling to it...Shout it at him if you must! *Believe it or not, that sometimes helps; to remind 'it' that it has already LOST!"

Dylan's shoulders relaxed slowly as he looked into the serious and...somehow...almost...angry brown eyes that shined brightly during this impassioned speech.

"Now, come, we will not miss dessert!" Fr.'Mo poked him in the shoulder and turned, heading for the door.  
Dylan, a little startled at the abrupt change, chuckled, and shaking himself a little as he hopped down from the counter-top followed.

Rosalia, Ellise and Paige made party plans.  
James and Carmine smoked cigars and continued to talk sports.  
Marco and Dylan held hands and enjoyed each others' and their family's company.

No one noticed the 'suits', who sat at the bar drinking and talking about the game... and noticing the 'star' Hockey-player who made two glasses of wine last through an entire meal.

Marco had driven them, (in Dylan's car) to the restaurant; Dylan said it was only fair that he get to drive them home.  
"Sure you;re not too sore, 'Killer'?!" Marco teased, snickering a little, there was...a little something more in the slightly narrow-eyed look he gave his boyfriend...something Dylan couldn't quite define...

Dylan grinned at him while trying to decipher that look;  
"Oh, you heard that huh?" he replied glancing away and shrugging a little self deprecatingly.  
"Yeah, you're probably covered in bruises! What got into you anyway?" Marco asked, looking honestly puzzled.

Dylan was saved from having to answer his question by his and Parents pulling out of parking-lot; they waved and yelled more goodbyes.  
Paige and Spinner were right behind them, and she yelled;"Don't party too hard celebrating tonight 'Killer'!"

That got the attention of a few other departing diners.  
Some, recognized him and yelling comments about the game to each other came over for autographs and a few questions. There was a lot of encouraging speculation about his Hockey future too.

Marco slipped into the drivers seat while this was going on, and sat quietly, watching Dylan in the rear-view mirror, that almost...speculating look still in his eyes, a little smile twitching his lips.

Dylan, finally finished with his admirers turned to get into the car but Marco grinned at him and stuck out his tongue!

Dylan grinned right back at him, and leaned close to his ear;  
"I can MAKE you move over...!", it was delivered in a low very sexy growl.  
Marco shivered, glanced sideways at him through his lashes and asked;  
"Oh yeah, this is an upscale place and your Fans, not to mention your teammates, would be scandalized!"

Dylan's eyes seemed to flash blue fire!  
He leaned an inch close...flicked the tip of his tongue along the curve of Marco's ear causing the unprepared boy to jump a little and shiver again.

Marco glared at the satisfied grin on his boyfriends face.  
"Tickle fight babe...wanna..?" Dylan whispered.  
"You wouldn't dare!?" Marco hissed at him, though the look in his eyes saying 'I dare you' !

Dylan, grinning hugely, started loosening his tie, the teasing light in his eyes saying clearly 'Just try me!'.

Marco got his seat-belt off and slid into the passenger seat almost in the same second!

Dylan was still laughing as he adjusted the mirror;  
"You should know better babe, my teammates would Love it, and my real fans would think it was great, we'd sell a million newspapers! Besides, you drank more than I did." he crowed.  
Marco gaped at him.  
"Excuse me?!" he said,"I'm..  
"Italian!" they finished together.

My red-hot Latin-Lover!" Dylan teased smirking.

And that was back in Marco's eyes...taking hold of the tie that now hung loose round Dylan's neck, he pulled him in for a kiss...  
If anything, that...intense, that...mesmerizing, could be called a kiss...  
Dylan sank into it..this warm, sweetly engulfing sensation...lips clinging, tongues seeking, tasting, exploring...

The sound of a long blast on a car-horn and a loud cat-call reminded Dylan that they were in a public parking-lot!

Dylan, blinked a little and pushed Marco back an inch or two, as he realized what he was doing; licking his lips, staring into those totally unrepentant eyes, he raised his own eyebrows in mock surprise as he said teasingly;  
"Marco! This is an upscale place!"  
"So put the windows up." Marco replied, the sparkle in his eyes holding Dylan more firmly in place than the hands now clasped in back of his neck.

Noticing the way his boyfriend was staring...like he wasn't quite sure what his young lover had in mind, but he might just be up to it at this moment, Marco slowly leaned those couple inches closer...kissed him again.

When Marco pulled back, Dylan held his bottom lip between his teeth...sucking gently... making him pull all the way back to get free.

Dylan was usually pretty wired after a good game.  
After having to get dressed up, then deal with The Parents(read Marco's DAD!), had been feeling even more hyper/high than ever!

Now...with Marco acting so...  
He felt a little... off balance..

He wanted out of these clothes...could already feel himself stretched out on the couch; Marco stretched out on top of him...each with the fingers of one hand buried in each others hair...

Yesterday he'd wanted sex so bad he could taste it...taste HIM.  
Today...

Today Marco had kissed him in front of everyone waiting outside the locker-room!

Mr Del Rossi had hugged him, welcomed him to their family and thanked him again; adding that he was also glad he'd hung in there...given him way more time and patience than he deserved.  
They both knew that things would be a little stilted for a while...a little less than...normal and natural, but they'd made a good start.

The fact that Fr.'Mo was involved with the plans for their 'Coming-out' party was also very encouraging.

All this had given Dylan something of a new perspective on...lots of things!

He'd woken in the night, his heart pounding from a dream he couldn't even remember.  
Turning on the bedside light...afraid to look...afraid he'd find Marco gone...or...he didn't really know anymore what to expect!

Dylan had been so glad to find his Marco sleeping there beside him; his breathing calm and even.  
Watching the steady rise and fall of his boyfriends chest he'd finally grown calm again himself.

Somewhere along the way he'd fallen in love with watching Marco sleep.  
Hearing him say his(Dylan's) name in his sleep...seeing him smile, sigh contentedly as he says it...arms tightening their grip on him.

Marco! Marco! Marco!

Marco's hands were moving on Dylan's chest; some how they'd found their way under his sweater...  
When they started toying with the buttons on his shirt Dylan wrapped his arms round him...held him so that those hands were pressed unmoving between them.  
"God Marco! he panted breathlessly. You gotta..."  
He closed his eyes as Marco nipped his neck...held the skin between his teeth and growled, sending shivers chasing over his body.  
"Stop!" Dylan finally managed.  
Marco's teeth let go of his neck only to soothe the spot with swirls of his warm wet tongue.

"Oh God yeah!" the big blond whispered in spite of his good intentions.  
He took hold of Marco's face...pulled him up so he could plunder the sweet spiciness of his mouth.

The look on Marco's face they finally broke for air was so adoring...and so happy...and...but...demanding too!  
That was a rare thing.

To Dylan... a rare and...very precious thing!

"I want to...taste...every inch of you!" Marco said.  
Struggling to catch enough breath to speak, staring into those drowning-deep chocolate eyes, Dylan nodded.

"Yeah... Me too... I mean..." he panted, trailing off when he got a little confused.  
That hadn't come out right; his lips moved soundlessly as he tried to think how to fix it.

Marco leaned back against the passenger door, one black nylon sock-covered foot came up...sliding over Dylan's thigh...moving against the bulge in his pants.  
Dylan put the car in gear; still trying to get his breath back...staring at Marco.  
His head turned, eyes finding the pavement as his foot came down on the gas.

Not a word was spoken during the ride back to the apartment.  
Marco stared at Dylan...

The look in his eyes stayed that same exciting mixture of heat, gladness...and ...demand.  
Like he knew exactly what he wanted to do once he got his boyfriend behind closed doors!

It was driving Dylan wild!

He glanced from Marco to the road before him and back.  
Opened his mouth to say something...but closed it again over and over.

Marco's foot moved in his lap...or, just as he looked into his face...he licked those lovely dark lips...  
And the words melted in Dylan's fevered brain!

It was amazing to him that he got them there and safely parked.

He turned off the ignition, started to say something but could only moan as Marco's heel pressed harder...sliding down the now throbbing length of him.

His hands were gripping the steering wheel...eyes closed...lips parted; trying to get enough air into his lungs to clear his spinning head.

Small soo hot hands took hold of his face...turned it...  
And he was drowning in those eyes again!

The look there had finally softened...a little.  
Soo much love...

But that heat/demand was still there...  
Like a shadow...or a threat/promise.

Some sound escaped Dylan's lips as Marco began to kiss his face.  
Gentle pecks that grew longer..clinging...sipping at his cheeks...his chin...finally his lips.

Marco took his time..  
Tasting Dylan's lips...drawing each one into his mouth...his tongue thoroughly exploring the shape and feel and taste of each part of his boyfriends mouth.

The older boy held on to his young lover's waist, shivering...whimpering...lost/helpless against this sweetly tender assault.

"I love you soo much!" Marco whispered breathlessly.  
" Marco...God...Marco..!" Dylan breathed into the dark so soft hair as he pressed his face into it. his love/desire for the boy rising up to fill hi throat, expand his heart till it filled his whole body.

So much tenderness...so much ...desire!

As long as he had this...

Marco could sing with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir if he wanted!

Dylan reached back and opened the car door; pulling Marco onto his lap,lifting him in his arms, getting out and throwing him over his shoulder he headed for the stairs.

"Dylan..What..!?" Marco tried, but dissolved into helpless giggles as, giving up he just held on.


	20. Chapter 20

Part A

Marco had his arms round Dylan...giggles finally subsided, his face pressed into the side of his lovers neck...inhaling what had come to be one of his favorite scents: after game Dylan!

There was the somehow green and fresh(yeah, really, however they'd managed THAT!) scent of the Irish Spring liquid soap he used in the shower with the guys instead of Ivory(that's for when it's just the two of them)or the Lever 200 that Dylan uses most of the time, ever since he found out it's Marco's favorite soap.

There was that indescribable boy-becoming-man scent, only...more, somehow!

There was also something cool and tangy but strong and...wild, at the same time; something that let/made Marco feel like there was no safer place on earth than where he was...in these arms.  
For him, it is the scent of Dylan the warrior.

Right now, he could believe there was nothing that his big, beautiful, golden dream couldn't handle!

Marco had stopped letting himself be carried at an early age; preferring to walk. It had given his parents a few wistful pangs, but they had also been quite proud of their small(for his age)son's will to learn to deal with his world instead of being so protected from it.

They never found out about the visiting uncle who had dropped him on purpose... and then laughed about it!  
He'd called Marco a cry-baby, after seeing Rosalia comforting him after some small accident the day before, but then volunteered to stay with him when she had to go out while Carmine worked late.  
Uncle Guido had dared little Marco to "Cry now! You little cry-baby!", as he walked away puffing his cigar.

Marco had kept it all to himself, deciding to prove his independence; not realizing that this loss/giving up of trust might matter more later.

If he hadn't been so close to Spinner for so long... sharing so much time and so many secrets, he'd never have been so cool with it when the first big-blond(and mostly dumb-jock!)in his life picked him up sometimes when they got to rough-housing!  
Marco trusted him.

He trusted Dylan even more.  
In Dylan's arms he felt more loved, more safe and completely at home than he had anywhere, in a long time.

Closing his eyes, Marco inhaled deeply, rubbing his nose lightly up and down the side of Dylan's neck...

Oh, yeah, there was one more...the best of all; desire, a sweet/musky...warm and smoky scent.

All these together at once!

Marco felt...high, and dizzy, and...incredulous/blessed/blissed-out!

He opened his mouth...pressed his tongue to his boyfriend's neck...  
Not licking...just pressing against the dew of sweat there, letting it coat/soak into his tongue, then drawing it back in...rolling that taste round his mouth...

Marco felt Dylan stop, his arms tightening; his muscles shifting...balance changing, stiffening.  
Marco raised his head, looked at his boyfriends face, then turned to see what had brought on such an abrupt change...

Carlos was waiting by the door of the apartment.

The shift in Dylan's mood was a little amazing...like a complete Jekyl/Hyde!  
All ardor cooled...more like evaporated, taking anything that might have been patient or gentle or even...understanding with it.  
His face looked, to Marco, like it did sometimes when he was out on the ice and working to score; something like a hunter sighting his prey.

Marco's heart swelled with pride, even as he grew irritated himself at the intrusion; in this present mood, he got a buzz out of his boyfriend's reaction. The coldness of Dylan's stare, the shifting into a fighters perfectly balanced stance even as he set Marco on his feet; never taking his eyes off Carlos.

Carlos was leaning against the wall, a cigarette in one hand and a bottle of Rum in the other; he wore a cocky smirk as he looked from one to the other of them as they got closer to him.

He flicked the butt away,still smirking, staring at Marco.  
Dylan stopped walking, and so did Marco without even looking, as if it was planned, only then did Carlos get a real look at the expressions on their faces.

The usually extremely self confident, sometimes out-right arrogant boy tried to stare Dylan down, but the look in the tall blond's eyes; the coldness on his face never wavered.

Carlos laughed a little uncertainly; his posture changing as he put up his hands, palms out;  
"Hey, hermano...no problemas! I just want to talk to...su amigo..." he said, pointing to Marco with a finger that he uncurled from round the bottle.  
"So talk." Dylan said, his voice flat, empty, almost cold...almost.  
Fr.'Mo would have recognized both tone and look.

The uncertain look on Carlos's face, and his hesitation said his plans for how this...conversation would go had suddenly changed...a lot.  
Even so, when he looked at Marco, the way his eyes glittered made Dylan take a step forward...as if he'd get between them.

Marco saw that look, but understood it a little better than Dylan; he put a hand on his boyfriend's arm:  
"It's o.k." Marco said, though there was still anger and a disapproving frown on his own face.

Marco could see in those bleary eyes that this...bravado, was covering more than a little hurt...and ...fear.  
'But fear of what?' he wondered, 'What had his dispirited, but pissed friend done?'

"So, have you seen Jayeson? I mean...Today?" Carlos finally asked, smirks and frowns chasing over his face like it couldn't tell what expression it should be wearing.  
"Yeah,we talked." Marco replied.  
Carlos waited, but it began to seem Marco would tell him no more unless he asked out-right; a thing his pride was choking him to keep hidden, that much apparent neediness...HIM?!  
'No way' Carlos thought, ' I shouldn't have to ...  
"I know it was about me...and I know YOU hate me for...but... Fuck!" Unable to finish, Carlos looked at the bottle like he'd just remembered he was holding it; took another swig, looked at what was left of it and, shrugging, brought the bottle back up to his mouth to drain it.

But,like most people who got drunk, then highly upset, then even MORE drunk, Carlos had no idea what shape he was in.

When he tipped his head back to take that last swallow, he overbalanced, and landed so hard he knocked himself out cold!

Marco rushed to the unconscious boy, checking his head; which amazingly, wasn't bleeding.  
Looking back up at Dylan, his expression a little amused as well as disgusted, seeing the completely disgusted look on his face, Marco shook his head, even as he motioned for him to help get Carlos up from there.

"And just what do you have in mind to do with him, I'm not letting him sleep it off here!" Dylan said with his hands on his hips, and a determined look in his eyes.

"C'mon Dyl, we could just put him on the couch, it's not like he's a complete stranger, and you guys were pals...before." Marco said, feeling a little sorry for Carlos.

Dylan looked at Marco, couldn't stop the smile he felt forming on his face now.

This was just so typical of the incredibly kind, considerate person that his boyfriend is.  
At this moment, Dylan could have cheerfully left the guy right there!

Dylan bent over, picking Carlos up, throwing him over his shoulder in a 'fireman's-carry' and and heading for Jayeson's place.

"Wha..?" Marco began, but Dylan cut him off;  
He'd stopped and half turned back so Marco saw the smirk on his face...the look in his eyes, he said;  
"I have plans for the couch, the bed... and our bathroom!"

Part B

Marco watched as Dylan turned and walked away...carrying a boy almost the same size and height as himself...like it was...nothing, no trouble at all!

And Marco's head was suddenly buzzing again like they'd never been interrupted...if not harder.  
He swallowed against the sensation; his breath catching, his body fairly thrumming with excitement/pride-of-ownership/wonder.

He could still taste that taste; that 'Yeah,That's Right-We-Won-the-Game' Dylan!  
His nostrils twitched at the remembered scent.

"God!" he whispered, not meaning to. "Mine..."  
The words seeping out in a barely audible groan as he watched those muscles move beneath the clothes that for once fit like he'd spent time picking what to wear... instead of just throwing on whatever he happened to grab!

There was a small smile on Marco's lips...but not the usual sweet innocent one.

In this look, the usual sparkle...like a star was shining out of each eye, was replaced with a glowing heat so...fierce, that if Dylan had seen it would surely have stopped his heart...before sending it flying!

Marco watched till his boyfriend was out of sight, sighing deeply as leaned on the door for a moment before getting out his keys.  
The look on his face now one of changing plans...

Dylan found the door unlocked and as he pushed it open he recognized Al Pacino's 'Sea of Love on the television and hoped it was their dvd, and not regular t. there'd be no commercials.

Glancing to the couch, he stopped, and just stood there smiling appreciatively at what he saw.

On the coffee-table he spotted a bowl with two cans of beer sticking out of a mound of ice, with a glass of wine close to it!

But where was Marco?

Behind him the door slammed.

Before he turn to see why, he was pushed against the door, pinned there by Marco's half-naked body!

Marco pulled his face down; took his mouth in such a mind-numbing kiss that Dylan's hands almost instantly came up and tangled themselves in the younger boy's hair.

Marco's hands moved purposefully over him...exploring ...relearning the shape of him...his neck, shoulders, arms; those strong, warm, expert fingers gripping firmly..as they mapped each muscle.  
The pressure of his fingers causing each muscle to tighten a little in response so that he could feel the strength coiled there...beneath all these..clothes...

Gripping the front of Dylan's sweater, Marco looked up at him with eyes that burn in the soft light from the t.v. screen;  
"Off!" he demanded in a fierce whisper.

Those incredibly blue eyes sparkled with delight.  
Dylan knew exactly what his love wanted...just how... he wanted to watch him pull the garment off...

Marco stepped back a little; tongue sliding over his parted lips.  
Dylan shivered seeing this...watching as that smaller, but beautifully shaped chest of Marco's rose and fell quickly in delighted expectation.

His fingers tingled with the desire to touch him; run is fingers, lips and tongue over the maddening perfection of that chest; the shape...so different from his own, was just so...precious/wonderful!  
Dylan had been...more than a little fascinated by it since the first time he'd seen Marco without a shirt.

But his young love was in a...rare mood.  
Marco taking charge of things like this didn't happen often; Dylan wasn't about to risk spoiling it!

Dylan stepped away from the door to give himself room before taking hold of the bottom of his sweater.  
He watched his boyfriend's eyes now;a slight smile...more a slightly... mystified-but-satisfied smirk on his own face.

Standing straight and tall, as he pulled the sweater up...taking a deep breath...his chest expanding...Dylan watched Marco's reaction.

Marco's lashes lowered and he licked his lips again as Dylan, grinning, stretched fully before tossing the sweater aside and, resting his hands on his hips, quirked an eyebrow at him in 'O.k., what's next?' look.


	21. Chapter 21

.Current Mood: sleepy All the time! Current Music: Depeche Mode/BeeGee's/ Pink Floyd

A/N; Thank you all very much for hanging in there with me and this story...but doesn't anyone have anything(even if it's unfavorable or a seemingly unimportant question) to say? Thanks especially for bearing with all the typos!

Part A

Marco's eyes narrowed as he looked into those soo bright, soo sky/sea-blue eyes...

Looking into/at Dylan's eyes...that slight hint of green almost gone...like the strawberry-blond curls that are darkening now, slowly, but definitely changing to something...else.

He smiles as his eyes move down the longer...thicker...even stronger body.

But inside it all...behind those even more intense eyes...it's still HIS DYLAN!

Marco's eyes widen a little...in wonder...

Because in that second/stretched-out moment, a great many things seem to...gel...and come clear to him.

He thinks/realizes: 'So this is how people wind up with things to tell each other when they are old and grey and you'd think they already know everything there is to know about each other!'  
A thought that is there and gone in less than a millionth of a second.

Not really...secrets..  
No, not really...  
Just things that don't need to be told...now.  
Maybe never.  
The spaces they make don't matter...now.

The other places he'd gone while they'd been separated...things he'd learned there.

The boys he'd met at a club he'd never known existed till Tom told him things he(Tom) thought would make him give up on Dylan for good.

The talk with Dylan's mom about why she'd been so happy when Dylan had brought him to their home that first time.

She hadn't gone into specifics about Dylan's first experiences...the first time he'd given his heart...but she had told him how Dylan had been after that; about the coldness, the determination to take none of the ones that followed...eventually...seriously.

If his father hadn't had a few 'very stern discussions' with him about how a...'date' aught to be treated; even if you never intended to see them again...

Marie-Ellise had left the sentence unfinished, staring at nothing as she thought back to that time, one finger trailing over a Hockey puck mounted on a block of wood that sat on her son's desk.  
When she looked back at Marco, he nodded, biting his lips, thinking of the way Dylan's eyes could get sometimes during a game...how coldly focused...his face showing no emotion but determination.

He'd never relly given that look much thought, not really.  
If askedhe would've said(if he he even answered a question like that) that he'd always foound it kinda...sexy.

Never considering it in relation to, say...a particular person...in a one on one sort of situation.  
And certainly not ever...

Thinking about it now though...

There was no mercy in that look.

Marco had never expected to be Dylan's first anything, had nothing but the thinnest of hopes(at first) that the older, soo gorgeous, so-popular-he-could-have-anybody, walking-dream would even give him more than the time of day!

Dylan's first love had been...an older MAN...not boy...full-grown man!  
A guy closer to their fathers' age!

That knowledge made what they had; the respect, the TRUST...and...understanding, even MORE... amazing to him.

And Dylan did understand him better than anyone besides his mom ever had.

Things like this...now..

Marco pressed his face into his boyfriends chest, squeezed him tight for a second before pulling back to take hold of Dylan's face again.

This kiss; gentle and sweet...clinging...ending slowly in sipping little pecks that made Dylan hold on to him even tighter, as tremors spread through him.  
Love for the boy in his arms washed over Dylan in a dizzying wave; moistening his eyes...putting a lump in his throat.

Marco couldn't help but remember...  
The boy Tom had tried to set him up with by telling this muscle-bound ditz that he(Marco) liked bare chests...if they were revealed properly...  
So this idiot had walked up, introduced himself and stripped of his shirt!  
Then, grinning, he'd offered to buy Marco a drink.

Marco smiled with his teeth holding onto Dylan's bottom lip, hummed with pleasure at the taste/sensation.

Dylan understands.  
It isn't bare chests.

It something about the way he looks taking a pull-over shirt off...no matter what's under it!

And HIS chest!

"I love you!" they said when they drew back for air; both of them said it at the same time.  
Dylan smiled delightedly.  
Marco smiled too, but his eyes held more than delight ...

That fire was back, and it stole Dylan's breath...his words...  
Any thought but Marco!

Marco's hands moved up to Dylan's shoulders...slid down his arms to the cuffs of his shirt sleeves...unfastened both buttons simultaneously while he stared into Dylan's eyes.  
He smiled at the look on the big blond's face...lifted his face; calling Dylan's lips down to brush with his own.

When Marco glanced at the neck of the shirt Dylan's hands came up to unfasten the buttons there, but Marco stopped him.

The younger boy kissed skin above that first button, then unfastened it himself.  
He did this with each one; kissing and tasting each newly uncovered patch of skin... brushing his lips over the almost invisible fine red hairs there... till he came to where it was tucked in at his lover's waist.

By then Dylan was leaning on the door again, eye lids fluttering, that beautiful chest rising and falling quickly with each panted breath.  
His hands clenched at his sides, fighting to keep from grabbing Marco and attacking him right there on the floor!

When Marco laid one hand over the buckle of his belt, pressed, began to slide that hand lower, Dylan did grab his hand.  
He had to look away from the pools of molten chocolate...that's how Marco's eyes looked to him now...drowning-deep.

"No...can't..!" Dylan drew a deep shuddering breath; lashes fluttering closed again for a moment.

Marco's eyes were glued to Dylan's face; loving the effect he was having on him, seeing it.  
His fingers closed round the buckle and pulled, drawing Dylan in so he could get his arms round him.  
The older boy sucked in breath, moaned as he wrapped his arms round Marco, buried his face in his hair, whispered;  
"God!"

Marco held him, hands moving soothingly over his back...easing him away from that edge.

When Dylan was calmer, breathing more normally, Marco whispered'  
"Take off your shoes."

Asking no questions, he heeled them off and before he could even wonder 'what's next?'; Marco was unfastening his belt and pulling the shirt out.  
The rest of the buttons were quickly undone, and those small, hot hands moving up his body and sliding it off his shoulders.

Of course this bared the now even wider expanse of that glorious chest.

Marco lost track of his 'plan'(and his English) for few delicious moments...

With hands, lips, and tongue...and adoring Italian phrases whispered too rapidly and too disjointedly for Dylan to even hope to follow, Marco paid homage to his boyfriend's chest till the older boy was whimpering and moaning; whispering his name over and over..

Marco silenced him with a kiss; fingers sliding and locking into the wildly tangled curls.

Dylan didn't know when he'd finished getting the shirt off, or even which of them had done it, but his arms were free now, and he wrapped them round Marco.  
The big strong hands moving hungrily over that small but soo perfectly shaped, firmly muscled body; bringing soft sighs and moans from the somewhat swollen dark lovely lips...

His hands gripped Dylan's hips, squeezing and massaging.

Of course this caused Dylan's hips to move...and this close the towel round Marco's waist started to slide..

Marco reached for the towel.  
Dylan scooped him up, holding him at the waist, the towel still between Marco's bare skin and Dylan's hands.

They were both smiling, staring into each others eyes as Marco wrapped his legs round Dylan's waist.  
Dylan's hands moved lower; to hold him there.  
The feel of the cloth sliding on his skin with the movement of those big sure hands brought a deep,sighing moan from Marco's parted lips, his eyelids fluttered closed.

That sound.  
The look on that beautiful face.  
Knowing it was...His...for/because of Him!

Dylan could only stare.  
Feeling something so strong and sharp...love/pride...and...a greedy sort of...fiercely possessive...something.

His chest heaved with it...mouth open, lips trembling with words he had no breath for...  
'Mine! MY MARCO!' his very soul wanted to scream!

His grip on the boy so hard he knew there would be bruises.  
Marks...  
His Marks!

And Marco; when his eyes opened, the knowledge of all this is there in them...  
And he is smiling!

Leaning forward, Marco bit into the base of his neck...trailed little bites up the side of it while Dylan shivered and moaned.  
Marco's tongue soothed over His Marks...  
And Dylan's fingers moved on him, flexing and sliding on him through the towel.

Marco, his lips only a breath from brushing his lovers ear, whispered;  
"I believe you wanted to ...start...with the couch?"  
The sting of Marco's teeth when he nipped his earlobe brought a growl from deep in Dylan's chest...his gut.

That wild, untamed look, like some jungle creature...a Lion perhaps, the one that had caused Fr.'mo so much concern, was in his eyes now.

But Marco loves that look.  
Loves that he can put that look on this face.

To him it says; right now... he is the only thing on Dylan's mind!

And since one particularly hot bout of love-making during which Marco had stared into Dylan's eyes, thrilled at the sight of this intensity, and whispered;  
"Say it!"  
To which Dylan had almost growled;  
"Mine! You. Are. Mine. Us... This. Mine!"  
Then he'd wrapped his arms round him so tightly, though the touch of his lips had been gentle at first, the grip of his fingers so strong...so possessive...

Marco loves this look...because... he feels the same way.

Taking Hold of Marco at the waist he lifted him higher, licked a trail down from his collar bone to his left nipple.  
Using his lips, tongue, and teeth...his whole mouth...he teased it to a hard almost too sensitive peak.

As Marco squirmed and moaned he pressed his open mouth just below it, teeth threatening... he brought those gently scraping teeth together slowly...over and over.

Marco's hands clamped down harder and harder on his tormentors biceps, but that grip had nothing to do with fear of falling or being dropped.

He knew what was coming...

Dylan nipped at the now soo sensitive skin he'd been teasing, then drew it between his lips...using his tongue expertly on his love ..sucking him in till his teeth almost break the skin.

But not quite...

The Dream 21-B**kdoc27**February 15th, 14:21

Current Location:pub. lib.Current Mood: aggravatedCurrent Music:Eenya, Depeche Mode, Pink Floyd

*Joseph Prince

Fr.'Mo drove back slowly,he had a lot on his mind.

He enjoyed being included in his peoples private lives, considering his purpose accomplished; that if they invited a priest to things that had nothing to do with 'church' things, may, just maybe they took their relationship with God in the way they were supposed to...made HIM part of their everyday lives too.

At least he hoped that was what it meant.

In all his years as a priest, he had faced many challenges...

Families torn apart by wars; relocation was often one of the solutions people resorted to first and Canada is so much larger and freer than 'back-home' for so many.  
By prison sentences; he was often hard pressed to keep these people from wanting to completely disown each other:the prisoner because of his initial belief that he had shamed the family beyond repair;the family(read the 'Father') because 'He must be hell-bound and completely 'lost' to them.

Most of the mothers were mostly just very quiet; crying a lot and casting a few pleading looks between their husbands and their priest.

Gulielmo often thought it was the prayers of all those mothers...over whatever amount of time it took, more than anything else that really brought their sons and daughters out of the darkness that led to incarceration and into the fold eventually.

That he was meant to be minister to God's people he had never doubted.

Upon learning, from his mother one day on the way to early Mass that we are supposed to (to him it felt more like allowed to) pray for each-other little Gulielmo had been delighted and couldn't wait to see what would happen!

His mother had told him that praying is what we call it when we talk to God.  
This had brought on what she called his 'There must be more to it than that!' look, so she had explained;  
"You know...when you talk to that 'friend-of-yours'... The one who told you about Nonna Tia's 'cold', and how it would get better if she went to the beach more often."

Years later they would learn that his aunt was prone to sinus infections, and the salt air was indeed one way of relieving them.

There were many such...occurrences in his life as he grew up, but his mother had always treated his priesthood like something she expected him to...grow out of!

Oh, to be certain she was proud of him when he was accepted,and went off to begin the work of learning to be a priest, but was forever asking him how it was going, was he having any doubts, was he ready to come home yet, and the like.

His father had even scolded her a little, saying that it seemed she was trying to discourage the boy!

After that she mostly kept her questions for when it was just the two of them, never failing to remind him that if he changed his mind she would love him just as much,and be just as proud of him, whatever he decided to be...or do.

When he left for a time to go back to school and take psychology she had seemed happier, more optimistic.

Until he went back, even though he told her he thought it would make him an even better priest.

There had never been any protestants in his family, and most mothers would have been only too happy at having a priest in the family, but her lack of certainty remained...

And here he was again, as he found himself every now and then, wondering if she might not be right after all.

Wrestling with himself about whether or not he can continue to lead/shepherd 'His' children(more often sheep)in this way; as a representative of the Catholic Church...or not.

There had been a letter.  
Nothing to worry about...not...threatening or anything.

Just a copy of a newsletter specifically detailing the stand the church took in regards to 'Same-Sex' couples.

And now his boys(that's how he had come to think of Marco and Dylan now, as His boys) were having the kind of 'problem' that lead to only one of two places.

Either they would split-up for good because of guilt, whether it was real or imagined and the interference of the things that love to intensify such things...

Or there would soon be plans for a wedding.

And then there was his old school chum,his English friend who kept sending him news about this new Grace preacher.*  
Just what he needed right now, more reason to doubt if his church really wasn't missing...something!

He believes his lord laughs with him in times like these!

Yes, he could ask him...or he could make a decision and see where it leads...

By the time he got back, parked and was heading up the stairs that led to the private entrance he turned at the top of the steps to look up at the clear star-filled sky.

The moon was large and bright.  
A perfect night for a stroll...in warmer weather of course.

He firmly believed we are supposed to enjoy all of God's wondrous creations...  
All his children.

If he stood here long enough, he could say that the brandy he was planning on was actually necessary to warm away the chill!


	22. Chapter 22

The Dream c-22-a

**kdoc27** February 25th, 13:56 Current Location: . Current Mood: cranky Current Music: Depeche Mode, R.E.M,Fastball,Wallflowers,Blue October

It had nearly screamed in frustration!  
That...little...CHRISTIAN!  
Still, the cause was not lost...  
It hadn't lived thousands of years for nothing.  
Perhaps a bit more pressure...  
Yes...  
If it had to break the boy's mind to avoid the punishment for failure...what of it?  
Hmm...  
The insane have no choices.  
He could torture him for years...

It wouldn't be the desired out-come.  
But not complete failure...

It wouldn't be ripped to pieces.  
Again!  
Said pieces separated away from each other in what it thought of as the Holding Ewers...or jars(charmed enclosures that kept them from being able to re-attach themselves) for years.  
During some of these times it wondered if immortality was truly better than being able to...just ...die..

First he had to get Marco away from him...  
Perhaps the one given charge of Jayeson...

Perfect, and, if the fool woke...and found them together...  
Even better!  
X  
X  
X  
x  
Dylan lay there, too confused to think in more than bits and pieces.  
The dream he'd had was...had felt like...

This was too weird, too...vivid to be called a dream;his heartbeat sped up just thinking about it.

The church-bells had been so loud...and the sound of the crowd, first cheering, then jeering.

They were cheering the happy couple, and pelting them with birdseed(his Marco would never kill a bird with raw rice!) as they ran for the limo that would take them away on their honeymoon.

The adoring smile on Marco's face as he glanced up at his tall boyfriend turning to a slight grimace as the tiny seeds bounced off his face.  
Noticing this, one of those long strong arms pulled him closer, shielding his face as they ran.

When they got there,the older boy stopped; stared down into that lovely glowing face for a moment before picking him up, spinning them round then gently depositing him in the back seat of the long shiny car with all the cans, boots, and streamers hanging from it's rear bumper.

Paige is of course among the happily cheering, seed-throwing crowd; her eyes dancing with joy and good wishes for them  
as they speed off...  
But the look in her eyes changes to something dark and...venomous when she looks back at a certain spot in the hedges...

She knows He is there.

That in spite of everything he just had to be there...see it...to believe things had really turned out this way.

Swallowing the burning lump in his throat, he whispers;  
"Good luck..." but nothing more will come past that hot burning thing in his throat.  
Not that name...

Dylan tries to wash it away with a gulp from the half empty rum bottle clenched in one shaking fist, but that burns even more.  
He can almost pretend that this is the cause for the tears now running down his unshaven cheeks...

Walking away...

So dark.  
Dylan drags himself from the bed, flicks the light-switch.  
Nothing.  
He can still hear bells ringing in his head; probably the beginning of another hang-over.

Stumbling down the hall-way; people from last-nights' party scattered around the living-room...Carlos grabbing him, rum flowing into his mouth as the still partying boy kisses him...pushing him away...stumbling through the semi-dark apartment.  
Back in their bathroom...trying the light-switch...  
Nothing.

The bells...louder, but jangling not instead of their usual beautiful pealing.  
Marco's smile as he looks up at Jayeson...

The laughter and cheers of the crowd.  
Somehow they have spotted him walking away through the churchyard...

They are suddenly all around him, pointing and laughing...jeering.  
"Stupid selfish jerk!"  
"Just couldn't keep in your pants, could you?!"  
"Creep!"

Even his own sister.  
"How could you say you loved him...how could you be so...heartless!?"

And of course Ellie...  
"Stupid 'Dumb jock'!"

He's walking, stumbling through them...no one tries to touch him, all of them recoiling if he gets too close.  
Everything's soo dark round the edges, like he's walking through a tunnel...almost.  
Like...walking through the woods with a weak flashlight on a moonless night, where only what's right in the beam is clear.

Turning to see Marco outside Carlos' bedroom...the look on his face.

He had to have heard them laughing and joking about how they'd fooled him with that 'drunken-passing-out' act.  
Carlos teasing Dylan about getting him back for the way he'd stroked him to hardness as he carried him to the apartment.

Why'd have to open the door...to see?

That look...  
His eyes, those beautiful eyes opening so wide with shock('something wrong here' his mind tries to tell him)...pain/hurt/anger chasing each other across that lovely face...

Marco smiling up at Jayeson...turning to look right at him(something about these eyes...his heart tries to tell him)as the tall boy lifts him into his arms before they get into the limo to leave.

Dylan flinches, his gut dropping again at these memories.  
He presses his clenched fists to his head, squeezing his eyes shut.  
"Stop!" he tries to yell, but his tongue doesn't want to cooperate; the word coming out thick...muffled.

Marco's face...smiling up at Jayeson.

"no!" a choked mumble instead of the scream that might release some of the pain.

Loud jeering laughter.

"Dylan?"  
It's Marco's voice, hurt and puzzled.

"Dylan!"

The darkness getting thicker as he turns towards the sound.  
"Why Dylan? Did you think I'd take that too?"

A mocking smirk on the face he still loves more than any other...but...  
The eyes are...wrong.  
Even through this pain that is killing what's left of his heart, holding him locked, pinned here, unable to think past it that manages to register.

Marco's eyes aren't that yellowy/green somehow...muddy color.

Still, Dylan tries to reach him, so he can...explain...beg..something/anything, though he doesn't know if he'll be able to force anything past this choking pain.

"It doesn't matter... I'm with Jayeson now!"  
Marco taunts grinning as he holds his hand out; showing him Jayeson's ring gleaming there.

"No! Mmm...arr..ca..co!"  
Struggling, Dylan tries to make his mouth obey him.

"HE loves me!" Marco says, turning away, closing the door with an angry slam.

Dylan gets there, yanks the door open...

'Where did this hall full of doors come from?' he wonders still hearing mocking laughter, unable to tell where it is coming from.

"Mmm..arrr...co!"  
Dylan is still trying to scream, but his tongue seems to be unable to get the messages his brain is fighting to send; responding so slowly that the word almost makes no sense.

Coming back into the bedroom, Marco hears the thick muttering.  
Having no idea what his love is dreaming, he smiles as he gets back into bed, begins to curl his body round Dylan.

Dylan's eyes fly open.

His body feels the way it does when he's been sleeping in one position too long; his racing mind jerks to a halt at how slow and even his breathing seems.

He wants to leap up...run away from...what he has just woke up from...?

But he is too afraid to move...to find out who's arm is round him.

More bells.

This time itn is only the front door-bell!

A sigh from behind him, the arm round him tightens for a second then moves away.

"Great, now what!?" Marco mumbles.  
There's more(in very angry sounding Italian!) as he heads out of the room to answer it.

In a calmer...less confused state, he might feel sorry for whoever it is!

Now, his eyes close in relief.  
The sensation that washes through Dylan is so strong, he couldn't have moved if he'd wanted to!

The Dream 22-b**kdoc27**March 5th, 11:24

Current Location: Current Mood:angry...way too often!Current Music:Depeche Mode,R.E.M,Beatles,Vangelis

Dylan remembers the evening in flashes...

Marco in just a towel...  
Only a towel separating his eyes...his lips...his hands AND lips, from that skin; his favorite flavour of spicy/sweetness!

Just the color of his skin; that shade of gold/brownish...is turning him on;  
'Why's it called olive, Olives are green' Dylan blinks, smiles to himself at the ridiculousness of this thought.

There he goes again; back in 'Marco-Melt'; his name for the state of infatuated giddiness that being with Marco puts him in.  
This has often been the cause of him(Dylan) saying and doing things that hadn't even crossed his mind, or changing(we wouldn't say out-right wrecking)more than a few well made plans...

'God, those eyes...'he thinks, and this feeling...like he could just dive in and be completely swallowed-up by the warmth and love there.

Sometimes, he looks into them and can tell Marco is reading everything he's feeling...like it's a story that is written there on his face/in his eyes.  
But Dylan doesn't mind, because he can read Marco too.

There had been a time when Dylan had thought his Marco might never really trust him again, but that time is long past now.

Now there is no trace of that slight tightness...something like a permanent wince...that made his heart feel like it was bleeding every time Marco looked at him.  
Dylan can remember how hopeful he'd felt when that look had changed to only a little watchfulness and Marco would quickly look away when he saw Dylan notice.

Now that is all over.  
The looks he remembers from this evening are mostly so hot; so totally focused...on him,so...demanding(!) most of the time, it's no wonder his poor brain couldn't handle it.

Marco-Melt!  
Oh yeah.

That was why he'd just blurted it out like that.  
This boy, would he always...his presence...no more than just that...affect him like this?

He remembers being ordered to lock the door...  
The sudden coldness, touching...sliding down his back.  
Spinning round.  
Marco, a wicked smile stretching his lips, sparkling in his eyes is half-way across the room holding out an open can of beer like someone holding up a cross to ward-off a vampire.

Narrowing his eyes, Dylan lowers his head a little, and rushes over to him; a menacing growl in his throat that was more worthy of the werewolf!  
That cocky little smirk never left Marco's face as his big boyfriend grips his waist, lifts him from the floor.

Marco, who never drinks beer, takes a big sip; grabs a handful of Dylan's hair and pulls till he tips his head back...

The thought of this brings Dylan back to Carlos and the rum in his dream/nightmare.

Dreams could be so stupid!  
He'd never even liked Carlos that way!

He thought about taking him to his and Jayeson's apartment.  
The way Carlos had been muttering disjointedly in his passed-out sleep;  
"Ciento..! Yo soy...ciento! Yo tequero Jayeson!" he half shouted."

Dylan didn't know much Spanish, but everybody knows 'tequero' means love.

It gave him a start, knowing he'd said similar things to Marco once, in similar circumstances!  
Though he hadn't been living with him; couldn't imagine doing something like that to him if they had been.

There were notes everywhere.

On the door to what Dylan assumed was Jayeson's bedroom: 'If you break in I'll Move Out!'  
On the table in kitchen:'Order Out! And Don't LEAVE ME A MESS TO CLEAN UP!'  
Bathroom door:If you Puke:Clean It Up!'  
On what must be Carlos's bedroom(?)door: 'I WON'T DO THIS ANYMORE!' and below this 'YOU SHIT!'

He was just beginning to feel a little sorry for the usually cocky Carlos when he saw the last one on the back of the front door:'BACK WHEN I GET BACK! p.s.I COULD BE WITH MARCO-HE'S WORTH 10 OF YOU!'

What the..!?

Time to go.  
He wouldn't even think about that...  
Nope, didn't even see that!

Except that it would just pop into his brain...in bright red neon letters!...off and on for the rest of the evening...

"Tequero, mio novio guapo! Tu eres mio...no Marco!" Carlos mumbled from where he lay on the couch as Dylan closed the door behind himself.

O.k. that didn't help!

'Tu eres mio.' Dylan thought.

He'd heard Carlos say that one so many times...to so many different guys...  
One night he'd asked him what it meant;  
"It means 'you are mine!'and no, most of the time I don't even really know I'm saying it."Carlos told him.

Dylan had gone outside to get some air that wasn't so mixed with various kinds of smoke.  
Carlos had been sitting on the steps with a bottle between his legs, slurring that phrase to someone before pocketing his cell-phone with an amused snicker.

"To the ones who don't speak Spanish, I could say almost anything...and sometimes I have, just for the hell of it you know...?" The smugness in his voice irritated Dylan a little; but if his father hadn't given him one very serious talking to when he first started 'hangin-out', by now he'd probably have been just as...callous about it.

"The only time I mean THAT is when I say it to mio novio...Jayeson. It's like you and your Marco. I play, but I like it just fine that Jayeson really doesn't want to !" Here he looked at Dylan and winked.  
" No, I don't think we would like that at all would we!?" Carlos had taken a sip from his bottle of rum then, offered Dylan some.

In his shock at this admission...this clearly stated understanding of something Dylan wasn't even willing to think about then... coming from this seemingly so truly wild and completely uninhibited boy, Dylan had taken the bottle and knocked back a long one.

But rum is very good for distracting a person from whats bothering them.  
After a while Dylan forgot what had started the two of them sitting here drinking together!

Now it seems Jayeson may finally have had enough...

X  
X  
X

Most of this was knocked right out of Dylan's mind by the reception he got when he entered his door.

By the time it came back to him, suddenly and without warning; he and Marco had finally made it to the couch.  
Marco had managed to stir-up the wild creature that he alone knew lived just below the surface in this gorgeous dream of a boy...again.

The way Marco was looking up at him...the expressions that moved across that beautiful face, while they stared into each others eyes...that they could be...this open to each other...  
No hesitations...no...fear, none at all!

Dylan's eyes had narrowed a little, and he was leaning down...bringing his face closer...and Marco was curling his body up to meet his lovers moist parted lips...

'Tu eres mio' ...yeah Dylan thought/felt.

And it started as a whisper;  
"oh, yeah...gotta be!.. " Dylan said so low that if they hadn't been this close Marco wouldn't have known what he'd said.

"Mine!" Dylan said softly but firmly... "I will marry you!"The last part was spoken against Marco's lips.

By the time Dylan's brain registered what his mouth had said, Marco's mouth, hands...his whole body was answering him...

Who needed words.

The Dream 22-c**kdoc27**March 15th, 13:26

Current Location: .Current Mood: annoyedCurrent Music:(Moroder-Scarface(endingtrack)), Depeche Mode, Pink Floyd, Vangellis

watch?v=i-HBsCw8HQQ&feature=endscreen&NR=1

It was this part that so startled the creature that lurked in the darkest of corners waiting for any opportunity to disrupt or annoy them.

Did it KNOW that Dylan was planning on asking Marco to marry him?

It had assumed that this was a ...slight possibility.

It's master knew that it was, if things continued the way they were going; it was a foregone conclusion!  
But said master saw no reason to share it's knowledge with miscellaneous subordinates.  
Knowledge was after all power.  
It would NEVER share that!

But since it hadn't been around for the beginning of their relationship it had no real idea of just how or how much/deeply Marco affected his older supposedly dumb-jock(all it took Dylan for) boyfriend.

It hadn't been round for their first kiss...  
Would've been surprised to know that it had not been planned...or 'plotted', which is how it is accustomed to boy's like this doing such things.

Or the first time Dylan told him he loved him...  
So it had no idea of the way this particular 'jock' really felt/reacted, even when he did have 'a plan' where this boy was concerned.

Their 'first-time' had come closely on the heels of that first telling...even though that also hadn't been a part of Dylan's 'plan'.  
Having missed all this, of course it didn't have a ...prayer!

But it didn't know that, not yet.  
Thought after the disastrous interruption of it's 'VISION OF THINGS FUTURE AND PAST', it began to suspect...  
And to really consider those possible punishments...

That Marco's touch could break it's hold on Dylan's dreams had come as only the briefest of shocks...

The young Rossi was after all one of ...THEM!

True, most of them had no idea of the real extent of their power and influence; much less the power in their spoken words.  
So many well obscured(and in plain sight mind you) truths could be put in doubt with a little contrived controversy!

Humans!  
You could keep them from finding out ...  
Keeping kings paupers is almost too easy...and endlessly amusing!

When Jayeson came to the door it assumed it would have all the time it needed to turn Dylan into a miserable, jealous wreck.  
Then, when they were just getting into a really highly emotional(tears and tight, consoling/supportive hugs)place in their conversation, to unleash him on the two of them!

But that pink-haired fool had only come to tell Marco how it had gone with Fr.'Mo, whom he'd caught up with before he left the parking-lot of the restaurant.  
He was going home to confront Carlos with HIS ultimatum: counseling or nothing!

Marco congratulated him, and told him of his and Dylan's engagement.  
Jayeson congratulated him!

Sure their parting was tearful.  
Yes there was a consoling/supportive hug...but it was brief!

The next ring of the bell had been some of Dylan's teammates; they'd wanted to drag the two of them off to a bar to finish celebrating the winning of the game properly.

Upon hearing; from the departing Jayeson, that it had become a private party, they just wanted to be a little annoying.

Marco wasn't having any!

A/N Next chapter will be the last...finally! :(/:)


	23. Chapter 23

Part A

Marco's heart was so full of the whole day!

The way the morning had started, with him getting up first and because he was still feeling a little...odd from last night's 'Jayeson-Fever', making a serious breakfast.  
He knew by the time he was half-way into it that odd feeling would fade as he concentrated on the little details.  
Dylan sneakily trying to seduce him back to bed; catching him at it and turning the tables on him!  
Even if they did get interrupted...  
Oh yeah!  
Way to start a Saturday!

Jayeson. Finally ready to do something about his problems with Carlos.

He really hopes Fr.'Mo can help him, or at least point him toward someone who can. The odds of finding another Catholic priest who is willing to help two boys with a relationship problem aren't so great.

Carlos is a Catholic too. though only a Christmas and Easter one. Jayeson's not even a member of any church.

His whole family is Baptist! They just pretend he's straight but too shy to date anyone. His mom knows, and this one girl who's been his best friend since kindergarten.

His dad just won't talk to him much at all...except about Basketball! He was glad, according to Jayeson, when his son stopped going to church; agreed that he should spend that time practising for his games.

Yeah, no wonder they hit it off so well. Maybe one day the four of them can get together, someday when grade/high-school...and this...trouble with Carlos, is more distant history!

Marco is amazed, and so incredibly thankful all over again at how blessed he is/they are in having such a great priest/church family!

How that church would let him and all it's other gay members down...again, just as it has for centuries if their(his and Dylan's) relationship tried to take its 'natural' course never even crossed his mind.

But then it had never even occurred to Marco that Dylan might be thinking of becoming more than just welcome to the family in the 'they finally accept him as my boyfriend' kinda way.

The second the words were out of Dylan's mouth, if anyone had been looking; they would have noticed that the shadowed areas of the room grew even darker. Something so old it considered it self immune to shock...  
Had just gotten shocked!

Since the creature couldn't really do anything now, not with the precious MARCO wrapped round Dylan like a cheap suit it had retreated; one ear half listening, it's main attention turned outward. It was searching; like an evil eye with wings, flying here and there, seeking...something else it could use to disrupt or at least delay what seemed to it just another one of these most nauseating displays that humans were entirely too prone to. A total waste of time and energy!

Old as it was, it had never had a human body. The idea that it could be jealous had been swatted away so many times... This time it went at a mere crinkling of the creatures brow.

Was something so old and well versed in subterfuge powerless?

Certainly not.

But against its former master's spirit it could do nothing.

That spirit was surrounding them both now, so that they almost glowed with its presence. Apparently that one didn't find their 'display' inappropriate at all!

Another thought,'Could all this 'Loving-kindness' be the way after all?' knew better than to even glance in the creature's direction.

Marco and Dylan weren't thinking of their creator, or his spirit... and certainly not some old demonic sour-puss of a thing.

Dylan, after first getting shocked speechless at his mother's mention of it, then too nervous to even think about it in Marco's presence, then having made what he'd thought was a good plan for handling this most serious of questions; could only smile to himself(between kisses)a little.

'God what a ride!' Dylan thought. His being older matter not one bit here!

There is no 'bottom', no 'top'.

There is this sweet, beautiful, boy who can gently, seemingly effortlessly change the most carefully considered plans...and handle what seem(at least to Dylan) to be really big changes...like they're nothing!

He didn't even break their kiss... Marco just...responded.

A/N The next one might take a while, I'm moving within the next two weeks. I will be working on this in long-hand, and will get it up as soon as I get a chance. PROMISE!:) k

A/N O.k. so it'll be a LONG last chapter!

23B (part 1)

mood: indescribable-with HAIR on it!

Time is a lost/forgotten concept. Not like it stopped.  
Like It had never been...

No... one/thing/place.

Sudden, exploding...

Joy?

Light/song/singing bright glowing haze!?

That incredibly happy...(joyus?)...fearless, ready-for-anything, bring-it-on-I HAVE-SO-GOTTHIS..feeling/prescence/thing that had shown up when Dylan had began to give serious thought to marriage with Marco rose up inside Dylan and swallowed the shock whole!

Yeah, sure, realizing what he'd said, even with Marco gripping him and tighter; like he'd squeeze their bodies into one, Dylan froze for a second.

But this...new...whatever it was that had apparently decided to help/make sure Dylan really got it together with Marco(once and for all, You belong to me!/We belong to each other!)had no patience for that kind of freezing.

Marco is... whispering his name...over and over, face pressed against the side of his neck ...crying softly, and whispering his name...

A million things fly through Dylan's mind.

Marco!

That Friday-night...their first _real_ Friday-night..  
Marco ..wiping that storm of doubt and fear away with his kisses and his touch.  
Knowing just what to say...do!  
Offering him his heart again and again with every kiss, every perfect touch and caress...

Marco.

The way it feels soo good to watch him while he sleeps. If he touches him then...how he always moves closer... Never away.

Unless he's sick; then he just curls round himself even tighter!

For some reason Marco still fears giving Dylan whatever malady strikes him. Marco hates being sick, it makes his temper really short too! Dylan learned quickly that kidding around doesn't make it better, and no matter how many times he doesn't 'catch' whatever' Marco still worries about it, or at least he did before the counseling sessions.

"I don't think we need to share a cold" Marco had told him the first time his boyfriend had tried to hold him while he was shivering with a teeth-chattering chill.

"Marco, I told you, I never get sick!" Dylan had replied; noticing the way the boy closed his eyes and almost smiled when he said his name.  
How he relaxed more and more listening to him(Dylan): finally falling asleep against his chest.

_Something_ had made him just tell Marco about his Hockey practice that day.  
And for a wonder it had worked!  
Marco had let him hold him, soon the shivering had stopped, and he'd eventually drifted off smiling.

_Something_ had told Dylan sit with him that day at the beach.

_Something_ had made him stop sneaking out to play around... To go see Marco(asleep or awake!) instead.

Something always seemed off...missing with Marco not a part of...certain moments...  
Hell, his life.

Marco was laying in his arms, his hands and face resting on the big warm chest; the trembling finally subsiding under the gently stroking of Dylan's hands.  
That warm sweet/spicy scent filling Dylan's world...wishing it could just be this way...  
...Something like a whisper...like a thought...says/seems to imply...'It can...forever...'

The smile forming on the big blonds face changes to something full of wonder/excitement at the images of the endless possibilities...

Something... Dylan remembers over hearing Fr. Mo' telling on of his young counselors-in-training;"Ah, yes, _'something'._ That is one of His other names!"

Dylan and Marco had just come in for one of their last few sessions.  
They were walking down the cool semi-dark corridor, holding hands. The words had floated to them through Fr. Mo's open door, echoing gently in the emptiness of the hallway.  
Dylan had looked sideways at Marco, glanced up, then quirked an eyebrow as he pointed from Marco to himself.  
Marco grinned and nodded enthusiastically in the affirmative; the blush rising quickly on his cheeks.

Of course Dylan just had to take hold of those warmly blushing cheeks, and kiss him till they both forgot where they were.

The young curates "Ahem.." reminded them.

Marco forgot how close he was to the wall and banged his head on it when he jerked back too quickly, then smacked his boyfriend on the arm with the hand not rubbing the sore spot!

But Marco is still crying.  
True, it's only little sniffles...half-words that end in deep sighs and tighter squeezes but...

Dylan is rubbing his back rhythmicaly, calmingly, and in a way that Marco knows means that he is also enjoying the feel of his body under his hands.  
Marco can't help being eased by that touch, but this, this declaration(no it hadn't been a question) has changed so many things...

He knows that there is one thing that has to be faced, and if he doesn't do it now, it will just get harder to do at all.

So when he feels Dylans' hands stop, one of his arms beginning to wrap round him, one hand sliding up into his hair, he knows he has to stop now...before they get too lost in each other.

Grabbing the hand that is just slipping into his hair, he brings it to his face...presses his face into it...breathing deeply of that wonderful scent that now says 'home', and 'safety' and 'Loved' to him. It is a Strong/warm/tangy thing...somewhere between cedar and pine...though not the oil...maybe more like the ...bark...?  
Whatever, It helps now, as it always does; makes Marco feel stronger.

Dylan's arm moves with him as he raises up, but doesn't let go, so he winds up leaning on the warm expanse of Dylan's chest anyway; which is more than a little distracting even now.

Marco loves that he can lay here like this and Dylan doesn't find him heavy at all, says it feels good!

part 2

So strong...  
All this perfect chest...and even wider than just a few months ago.

He let his eyes roam over it, up the thick deliciously sensitive column of Dylan's neck; just behind his chin to the scar where a puck had sliced him when he was ten.

He stopped when he got to the soft pink lips that were still teen-aged-plump; that would start to change soon too, though the shape of them, and the color of the beard-hair round them seemed it would last beyond the blond in his curls.

Marco smiled a little sadly at the thought of some of these changes, but only a little; God he loves this boy... man.

Yeah, they love each other, but...

But the world...way too much of it still says that's wrong, so they need to be even more sure, even more 'together' on the things they want/ stand for and believe in.

Marco's whole family is Catholic.

Yeah, Dylan's family come to a Catholic Church now...but...

And sure, they're really good people...and they love Marco too, but none of them has gone through the confirmation process yet.

Sure, Marco's family seem to like and accept his and Dylan's relationship now.

But even though they mostly just go through the motions when it comes to church; they aren't gonna be cool with Dylan's lack of what they'll probably call 'religious commitment'.

Nope, there's just no way round it.

Taking a deep breath, steeling himself against the feelings that he knows will rise up in him...lying here like this...looking into those beautiful eyes; "Dyl" he begins, but the pull of these eyes is just too much, he has to look away, down, anywhere else.

By the time Marco finishes, his head is on his boyfriend's chest again; those long, strong fingers buried in his hair.

Dylan had been more than a little worried about what could be so terrible that it could make Marco look so sad in the middle of what had seemed like the happiest moment of his life. The silence at first had seemed very loud to both of them.

This was just about the last thing he expected!

No, he'd never given religion much thought, but he knew that for his love this was a very serious thing.  
It wasn't like he wanted to be an atheist or anything, it was just that he'd never seen where it made that much of a difference in anyone's life.

But then, he'd never had anyone like Marco in his life before.  
What if...?

'THERE IS NO MAYBE...WHAT DO YOU THINK BLESSED MEANS'!?

Dylan, hearing/feeling that shout stared sightlessly; chewing on his bottom lip, scenes from their relationship flipping through his mind like a movie on fast forward.

The ease of their...comming together...being there for each other, or rather how easy it was for Dylan to want to be there for Marco, right from the start.  
Spending more and more time with Marco and not even noticing really, how much more he enjoied that time than...'the chase'...till it was too late!

Not even realising he was in love!

Marco is just so perfect, even his mom(Elise) had seemed to love him that first time he brought him over to watch movies.  
Rosalia Del Rossi had liked and trusted him too, even though she hadden't been sure of what was between them till after the break-up.

The break-up!  
That Marco got HIM of all people to go to ANY kind of counseling...and with a PRIEST!?

Another thing that turned out to be just what he'd needed...

Marco, unable to stand it anymore, lifted his head, as ready as he felt he could make himself for what-ever look might be on Dylan's face.  
He of course had no idea about the new (prescense)...something Dylan had been conversing with/listening to.

What he saw ther made his heart stop for a few long seconds...

There was a kind of wildness there...nothing new...a teasing sort of catch-me-if-you-can laughter...again perfectlly normal Dylan.

This look held all this and something...way more.

And Marco recognized it!

Opening himself, reaching with 'that' part of himself, he could feel it, THAT PRESCENCE...could almost hear the laughter...

It was kinda like...your mother...when shes been trying to teach you something, and she can tell it's starting to finally come clear to you.

The same laughter Dylan was hearing/feeling...In!

And they were laughing, giggling...and holding on to each other...and laughing... and crying and holding on to each other tightly, pulling back to look into each others eyes...and laughing!

Dylan, dropping his voice to it's most formal-sounding bass range; "Swearing fealty and belief in the Holy Roman Catholic Church!" He actually got it all out without snickering once.  
Both bursting out laughing at the absurdity of that oath, in the face of...This...of HIM!

Neighter of them would remember when all this mirth turned to elated kisses that grew... warmer... and longer, clinging ...so sweetly clinging.

Of course the sex was amazing.

At some point, Dylan, realizing what Marco is about to do, started to say either 'no' or 'don't', but Marco was already raking his nails up the soles of the big blonds' feet, and the words were lost in a new word, or some sound that might be a word... in some language!

Dylan's knuckles whitened where they gripped the brass railing at the head of the bed; his helplessly bucking hips shot Marco over the edge with him. Their cries, which included each other's names, and various explative, were also laced with calls on THE DEITY...by both of his most well known names.

Eventually, when they could move again, they found their way into each other's arms. The after-shocks made it hard to catch their breath, and to bear looking into each other's eyes... So of course there were soon tears and exausted clinging. And whispered promises...

Carlos...

Does he love Jayeson enough to go through counseling with him or not, and how much of all this is because of his drinking.  
Could he really see Jayeson with someone else and not get himself into trouble again; thats what happened last time.

Good thing his insurance covered the other kid's hospital bill, and he'd had too many different things in his system to make pressing charges a good idea!

He(Carlos) is a lot like Dylan that way, well like Dylan used to be. No matter what Carlos decides...or how long it takes... They have hurdles for Jayeson to help his love get over.

'Sometimes, even when they love you, it could be so hard for some to choose!' Marco thought, trying not to worry too much for them, reminding himself that it won't help; a small somewhat guilty smile stretches his lips...but only for a second.

Worry.  
A worse habit than smoking cigaretts, at least according to father 'Mo! "It is always harder to put down what you pick up with your mind." Marco can almost hear the voice of his long-time friend, see the 'Oh well' shrug of shoulders, the out-flung open palms that say 'Sorry, but that's just how it is.'.

Thinking about all this, some of the heat faded from the annoyance he'd felt towords anyone who had or might interrupt them tonight.  
But he would not share Dylan with aynone else tonight, not after...

dylan. DYLAN! WANTS TO MARRY HIM!

DYLAN ALLEN MICHALCHUK is gonna MARRY ...ME!

MARCO MICHALCHUK!

Marco is walking on air, practically floating back to their bedroom.

But looking at Dylan now, what he sees hits him like a glass of ice-cold water suddenly thrown into his face!

The signs of the aftermath of another 'dream' are there; that tight-lipped(guilty/angry)-'caught', 'just-like-I-deserved-to-be'-, look .  
The hunched, 'wish-I-could-just-curl-up-till-I-fold-myself-out-of-existance' shape that his big perfect body makes hurts so much it makes him(Marco) crazy!  
This just shouldn't happen to this wonderful, happy, laughing, joking, prank-playing, amazing person, not after all he's already gone through on his own; not to mention what they have gone through together.

Yes, Marco knows there are things that they've never talked about, though he can guess it might come out soon...whatever made Dylan such a...'player' to some of the people in his old after-school life.

'Will this shit never be over?' he wonders shaking his head as enters the room, rolling his eyes, knowing Dylan won't see him yet.  
'And why... just f#&in' why?!' he fumes to no-one, just yelling inside his head, maybe it'll shake an idea loose!

But now is not the time for questions.  
Showing Dylan how frustrated and useless all this makes him feel won't help.  
Marco can tell by now that this one was really bad...one of those that Dylan won't ever tell him about.

So... Walking over to the bed...eyes moving over Dylan's face...catching his eye at last...letting him see that he's looking at him...and how he's looking at him...

Trying to lighten this ugly mood, distract him-if only for just a little.  
Marco puts as much of what he feels for him as he can on his face, the adoration/admiration for each part of Dylan's gorgeous body.  
Even though he knows that all this may accomplish is to get his love pissed about something else!

Dylan has gotten more comfortable with Marco looking at him, but it took a while.  
Marco has never understood why Dylan used to fidget so much when he noticed him(Marco) staring at him.  
Marco just enjoys watching him in motion, always has, even before he got to know him. Was amazed at how perfect he seems, how beautiful that long soo well muscled body moves, each muscle responding so...it's almost like listening to a perfectly composed piece of music.

Just going through the daily things, from one class to another...then suddenly.. THERE HE IS! A bright-red-neon feeling! Letters at least ten feet tall and flashing!  
Sometimes it's... a soft glowing thing, like floating in a warm blue ocean, or a heart-stopping, breath-stealing thing that makes him feel like he's blushing all over!

But as good as it has always felt to Marco, if Dylan caught him looking...

'Caught!' That's what the first expression on that gorgeous face...for so long.  
Then, there'd be a sort of...bracing-for-impact kinda thing; jaw clenched, muscles tensed, like he was thinking 'All right, hit me with it, I knew it couldn't last!' Marco could almost hear the " Yeah, I did it, I admit it, Go ahead, I can take my lumps...I earned 'em."

But there was also something else...something that felt like 'But I didn't mean to!' and 'Please...like me anyway...give me another chance?!'  
And lots of fidgeting.

Or goofing off, which could be anything from slowly crossing his eyes, to 'falls' over imaginary objects!  
The John Belushi-style 'zit' immitation* was one of the few that landed both of them in detention.  
Marco haddn't been as pissed about it as he'd pretended to be, but...  
The way Dylan had apologised that night... Yeah, they'd spent some time after that passing each other in the hall with a smirk, and a whispered; "Hey... Fog-man!"  
And that was before they'd ever...

The right time to ask about it just never came round. Every time Marco thought of it(asking) while they were together...something always came up.  
He wonders now if that should have told him/been trying to ; that the 'why' mattered, maybe a lot!

Thinking about it now he realized that Dylan was only mad about something else when he(Marco) was about to ask; had in fact read his face and done the first thing he could think of to distract him.

File that under LATER, BUT SOON!

The anguished older boy looked up; flinching a little when he saw him, forcing his eyes to meet his. Dylan was trying to keep up the eye contact, but Marco could tell it was costing him. That 'Caught!' and all the rest was just there, trying to take over and make this even harder, like suffering what ever dream hadden't been punishment enough!

*Animal House

A/N: I know, this was supposed to be the last chapter... Eyes down-cast, thumb in mouth."Thaawee!" Did I tell you I had to drop Twitter? I got tired of being told my 'tweets' were too long.

Chapter 24 will be up soon, the long-hand version is almost done.

SORRY! :(

FINALLY!(LAST EDIT!)


	24. Chapter 24

"Hey...fiance?" Marco said, blushing and grinning a little at the feelings(shocked delight, relief of one tension now exchanged for new ones!) that word stirred in him. Dylan's gaze is drawn to that grin, and as Marco moves closer the sight of those smiling lips work its usual magic on him. And that look; the one that says 'MINE' burning in Marco's eyes takes hold of him again. Those lovely deep dark chocolate eyes glow with heat and demand.

With a prayer that is no more than a wordless, lightning flash of feeling, but one that has his whole heart and all the hope he has for a future with the man before him tied up in it Marco keeps walking, trying to keep his anxious thoughts off his face now. Seeing Dylan's body relax a little as his gaze remains locked on his face, on his mouth; knowing where Dylan staring at his lips usually leads, pushes most of his worry into the back of his mind...for now.

Dylan doesn't isn't freezing or getting bogged down in guilt or the usual 'stuff' a really bad one of these dreams leaves behind.

Marco licks his lips, feeling heat and joy flash through him as Dylan's lips part and his eyes flash up to lock on his again. That 'MINE' look is back in Dylan's eyes now too...in the smirk growing on his face.

Loving it, feeling love for this wild, unpredictable, too adorable(when he wants to be) man-boy...who want's to ...!...Marco floated the last few steps and into his...FIANCE's arms!

It was only when he reached up to slip his fingers into Dylan's hair that he realized he had something in his hand. With a flick of his wrist he launched it into a corner.

The movement caught Dylan's eye. The shock was like stepping from a hot steam bath to a cold shower!

Dylan recognized the piece of dark purple silk instantly. Oh yeah, big-time freeze!

Fear and guilt were filling the eyes that turned back to Marco's', the lips about to meet his trembled as a word tried to form there.

'No!' Marco thought, 'Not this time!'

"Mmmph!" was all Dylan managed as Marco's lips claimed his.

The words, whatever they'd been were wiped away completely as Marco's tongue and lips moved on his.

The heat of the fingers that slipped into his curls, joined with the heat of those lips,as Marco used that grip on his hair to hold him in place. Marco's lips moved slowly, expertly over his face; causing Dylan's eyelids to flutter, helpless groans to rumble up from his suddenly heaving chest as he sucked in air...tried to...

Marco was still gripping his hair, pulling his head back as his lips slipped towards the so sensitive weak spot that was his lovers neck.

"Oh God...! Marco...!" was all he could manage as his lover's teeth scraped gently, then began nipping at the tender flesh of his neck and collar-bone.

Dylan feels ready to burst into flame, his grip on Marco now bruisingly tight.

"NO amore mio...Mio, mio sempre..!" Marco breathes against the hot flushed skin of Dylan's throat.

Marco had put on one of Dylan's old hockey shirts to answer the door in, the big blonde's fingers are locked in the fabric of it now; chest heaving, eyelids fluttering... "Yeah...oh God Marco...!" all he can manage as he melts into this sweet mind-bending attack. He could never walk away from this... never say no to this boy...not while his hands and lips are touching him... He can't even say stop! Each kiss...each sharp/sweet bite, draws a helpless moan from... everyplace inside him. MARCO...the spicy-sweetness on his lips, filling his lungs...his/the world... MARCO...melting..flying...drowning...helpless...invincible!

MARCO! MARCO MARCO!

Point made, Marco's fingers ease their grip on Dylan's hair; long sweet experience lets them slip in among the wildly tangled curls painlessly, massaging away the sting.

"'This' or 'That'" Dylan's eyes opened, stared sightlessly at nothing...he heard/felt those words as plainly as if they'd been spoken into his ear...or more like from inside him. Mr.,Miss. Mrs...or if some of them are right-Mr./Ms. Fearless Elation-'I'(LOVE) 'AM ALL YOU NEED' is back.

Just three words...but he gets it... All of it.

What had Marco said...'Not a religion...,more like a relationship.' Yeah...um...(he wonders if it should maybe be 'yes sir.' and would almost swear he hears laughter) o.k.!

The 'this' is the way he just felt; so completely possessed. But so totally free. And the way he feels now; like how holding Marco close like this is...is almost better than sex!

The 'that' is the anger and fear, the guilt that he knows now was never his in the first place.

His arm tightens round Marco, who is now sitting on his lap, his head resting against Dylan's chest.

"Take away their ammo...Tell him..." Nothing like when He?She? ...?...his new ...Friend(?) told him what to Do with Marco.

This is such a gentle suggestion... Like...'whoever' realizes fully just what a monumentally large thing this will/would be.

Even with the unspoken 'I'm with you',(and more than holding your hand) thinking about this causes Dylan to shiver a little. There were other things about this message too.

The feeling of (possible) freedom from ...well some of the things he and Fr.'Mo had talked about was implied in the first part of this. But the 'Tell him' part...That had felt (though gentle) a whole lot like ...well..."Shit or get off the pot son!"...!?

'He's a little...well, sometimes a lot ...different from what all that 'religious' stuff can lead you to expect' Marco had said. No shit!

That day...

He'd probably never forget it, but thinking about it now... No. They'd been wrong...totally wrong.

He glanced at the tangled scrap of purple cloth.

The expression on Giles' face after he barfed on him made him smile.

Still, when Dylan opened his mouth the first time, nothing came out. "- -" Dylan cleared his throat and tried again.

"Marco, I need to-"

But Marco had felt that shiver, heard the speeding of his loves' heartbeat. He understood that some decision had been made, but not which one or about what, and knowing how these things had gone in their past; fearing that Dylan was trying to back up again and hating the thought of that, he lost it ...a little.

"No! This stops...ends. Now!" The same possessive, demanding, hot light burned in his eyes.

Marco doesn't get like this often, it takes quite a lot to push him here; Dylan has learned that it's simpler(and safer!) to just not get in his way till it's over. Also he thinks it's sexy as hell!

"You were right." Marco says, holding Dylan's eyes. "When you said everything comes down to you and me...us...this! I don't CARE what happened before...or during the time we weren't together... Or anything...any other time/place...whatever! Dylan! I love you. I forgive you and I trust you! O.K!?"

"Marco-" Dylan tried again, but his impassioned love wasn't done yet.

"No!" Marco yelled, getting up and starting to pace back and forth. "Yes, o.k.? I know that your name is on those...those.." he pointed at the purple tangle of cloth on top of a pile of Dylan's clothes.

"Love-cuffs." Dylan told him.

That got him a frown and an exasperated eye-roll.

"Whatever. Jayeson found them on the door-knob when he came over to tell me how it went with Fr.'Mo. There's a lot of of...stuff...yeah, o.k...SHIT! that I don't know about. I don't NEED to Dylan. I know I love you and I know you love me.

I know I worry and you freeze-up every time we get closer...get to...another 'level'; but I'm done letting you hide from me that way! This is the best day of my f %#ing life Dylan!  
My old-world, over-religious, homophobic FATHER is going to be part of our 'coming out' party! And so is my-OUR priest!

"Marco?" Dylan is trying really hard not to let the smile show on his face, he's thrilled at all this, if he'd had any doubts about Marco being ready they're gone now!

"I know!" Marco cut him off again. "I walked away. That was wrong. I should have stood my ground and fought for ...what we had...for YOU alright. I know that now. Back then I didn't even know that I could till ...later.

He stomped over to Dylan and pointed at him; "But I know it now, that kiss just proved it. We know each other, we love each other...and...and...we don't let ...shit...that isn't part of us break us up!"

"Yes sir!" a now openly grinning Dylan said.

Marco narrowed his eyes, his lips pressed in to a thin line."I mean it Dylan. that means you don't get to cave to some...DREAM either! I know you don't talk about all of them, especially the ones that hurt you the most. Well marriage is a partnership. You don't get to be the only one who 'saves the day' all the time. You got that!?"

Dylan, smiling now as he nodded; looking Maraco in the eye as he answered; "Yeah, I do get it. And That's why I need to tell you ...what you've been saving me from ... All along!"

24-b-1

Yeah...that froze HIM!

That look... Now, Dylan thought , I know how one of our specimens feels under the 'scope...the electron microscope.

Yeah, I know that word/machine now! also thanks to him, well, trying to impress him more anyway!  
So many things he does to/for me...without even trying...or noticing.

Yeah, I am starting to reallly get into my healthsciences class now. Very cool machines. So what if he only learned about machines to spend time with his dad..?  
That he loves him enough to want to...even though like with me and hockey, he really didn't care about it-didn't get into it for himself.  
My Marco.

He 'visited' my class one Friday... as a future student, you know, just checking it out.  
After class he started asking about some of the equipment and my teacher got involved...said something about how well I handled the experiments he'd given out this term.

Marco was impressed.

Hell yeah I'm all over it now!

I can't believe he never said a word, not even when class was over, just those adoring looks flashed at me before pretending to study the calibrations and settings.

And I didn't need to ask or tease him about it, that would never have been me before the 'counseling'!  
But boy did I enjoy those 'looks' and the way he beamed when I told him about some of the 'labs' as our prof. called them.

Nobody else has ever looked at me...listened to me the way he does...so...sincerely!

I know it's, well part of it is just the way he looks at things so..differently from the way most people just look and go on. Marco really SEES...so much.

I just wasn't expecting, and no way near ready to have that kind of time/thought...intensity turned on ME!

It used to scare me to death ...and make me so...beyond nervous.  
I wanted to believe it...couldn't stop thinking ab out it...about HIM.

But I just couldn't see...HIM...wanting to...I mean why ...ME?

But he... did/does! AND HE'S GONNA MARRY ME!

And I am grinning that little-kid, nothing-held-back grin; running to grab him up and spin him round.  
He can't resist my smile when it's like this which turns me on even more...and he knows it's for and because of him, and he's soon laughing with me.  
I squeeze him so hard, it's...that he's _real_ and really _mine_ and he just laughs...

I used to stop myself, put him down quickly and ask if he was o.k..  
He'd always say he was fine, but after a while I noticed that he looked sorta disappointed when I put him down, or he'd just laugh and change the subject.

Then came The Football Saturday...

Marco can handle wine or liquor pretty well; but beer gives him the giggles.

I've tried telling him not to drink it so fast, but he says it's so like soda that he just forgets(not that I mind, he's too adorable when it happens!) and besides he doesn't do it very often.

I found out early on that about half way through his second Molson M, or Lowenbrau PD anything could set him off and...did I tell you I love to make faces.

I didn't dare really tickle him then...just the threat of a touch is more than enough to get him squirming away from me and or trying to out-run me... as if!

We were alone at my house, my parents, and Paige gone for the weekend(though I hadn't told him that part yet)all-day football, and most of a case of Lowenbrau Dark.

He turned his face up to me; we were sitting with just the pop-corn bowl between us on the reclining couch...(and yeah, I was trying to think of a smooth way to ditch that bowl!) already a little glassy-eyed.

Those beautiful eyes, a little wider, shining with glad 'we're finally alone!'...and beer! The soo dark brows and curling lashes...framed by all that soft dark shining hair...

Marco is half-smiling...biting his lips a little, trying not to giggle so he can ask me something.  
All I can do is grin back...and look at him; my breathing totally wrecked at the sound of each choked-off, tipsy giggle. Yeah, I'm gone...already soo lost in him.  
His eyes flicked down to my lips, and I saw the pink tip of his tongue slip quickly over his full bottom lip, and forgot how to breathe at all for a few seconds.  
When he glanced back up, I crossed my eyes at him(!)... giggle city _and_ more blushes !

"Stop it!" he screamed holding his belly; by then tears are streaming down his flushed cheeks.

"O.k. _so...what_ ?" I asked, knowing he'd get round to the question anyway, even though back then I often worried too much about what he might ask.  
Sometimes Marco can see more than I'm ready to deal with.  
Yeah, big news.

He looked at me for real then, and I made myself not do anything to put this off any longer, like I said, back then I ...that look just ...it was like he could see all the way into me, and I just wasn't ...didn't feel ...'worthy'.. of that...of HIM.

"How come when we..when you.." he touched my arm, sliding his fingers up to my bicep, smirking a little, but blushing an even deeper red and looking at me through his lashes again,(he wasn't ready to 'say' when you touch me yet) he said, mumbled; "I'm not glass-I won't break ya know!"

That was about the last thing I expected. My grin was wicked as I reached for the switch that flattened out the couch. "Dylan!" he squeeked, but I'd already rolled over and pulled him into my arms.

He giggled with his face burried in my chest.

I squeezed tight as I'd always wanted to, and he murmered something I had to pull back for a second to catch... "I like it with you ...on top too!" he said too quickly, and all together...and he was blushing again..

It was after that that I started...sneaking out to see him.

(24-c) *1stKings 8:29 **pls.124 ***pls.28

In the at the edges of the room... In the shadows cast by ordinary things; those who lie in wait turned to their leader... Listening. Waiting for their new orders.

Distractions. What they needed were distractions...Now! The roar building in the demons chest...in the ichor(that pitch-black substance that served instead of blood) now growing hotter and hotter as it rushed through its veins made the waiting minions tremble and gibber in terror..

It wasn't just the fear of possible failure and the punishment for it if they failed.. It was the way those orders would be given. Ears would bleed, their drums burst from roars so loud that they would have been( could they have heard and survived it) the envy of any rock musician.

Hide would part in shreds...or be lost altogether, depending on whether it was whip, claw, or whatever corrosive fluid it chose to spew...as well as where it landed!

Perhaps if action were simply taken... ANY Action!?

The telemarketer on the other end of the line would've been a little puzzled if anyone had answered...since that wasn't the number he'd dialed. Would he have still tried to 'running his spiel'?...you betcha !...a sale's a sale.

The phone was ignored, that had sounded like a burst pipe in the bathroom!

Marco sighed, and got up to check it out, hopping there'd be a cut-off valve close to the trouble and that the water could be stopped before the whole bathroom flooded.

Megan, in the apartment next door heard the pipe when it burst in Dylan's bathroom and immediately got on the phone to maintenance. She could be a very helpful neighbor...and have a chance to feed her crush on Charlie, the plumber!

Dylan, right behind Marco, hit the light switch only to have the bulb flash too brightly and die.

Fr.'Mo froze in act of lifting the purple stola from his shoulders, a slight frown creasing his brow. The sense of something off, something...wrong that had remained at the edge of his consciousness all morning returned. His morning prayers and the early Mass(or Eucharist these days) had pushed it back for a while, now it hit him again, this time feeling like a cold fast-rising floodtide. 'What...no, who...?' Which one of his people is in danger of...drowning?...separation from...?!

It was not Rome in his thoughts when he turned to face that way; arms spread wide (palms open as if to catch something that fell from above) but the house that Solomon built.*

In his minds eye he saw...curling black hair, fingers holding a single curl like... Like when his mother examined a piece of fabric to see if she liked the texture of it.

He remembered Dylan, that day in his office and knew that was right...his boys are...! Now was not the time for questions, his boys needed! He prayed! "Had it not been the Lord who was on our side..."**

Rosalia Del Rossi held the locked with the pictures of her husband and son in it. There was a slight trembling in the fingers that moved over the tiny heart. Her baby, something wrong/dangerous...her baby and... Her baby!

Her cell phone had no bars, though she would have sworn it had been fully charged when they left for church this morning. The first try on the wall phone got her to her cousin Stella?! Rosalia loved her cousin, but was in no mood to deal with one of her 'forever' conversations, so when Carmine yelled from the living-room, she was glad of the excuse to hang up on that one. By then he'd found his precious 'remote' so she tried again, dialing very slowly and carefully. Voice-mail!

One hand pressed to her twisting and burning middle, she went for the stairs, the locket seeming very cold where it lay against her heart The statues, one with his arms opened wide, the other his mother holding his baby-self, seemed to be waiting for her: "A Te o Signore che io chiamo, il mio rock, non essere sordi a me..."***

A/N: Computer problems, starting next chapter psb. up (beginning) Friday...


	25. Chapter 25

kdoc27  
April 9th, 12:44 C25 part A

Current Mood: aggravated, even-before the crap starts! A/N:(5/8/14) New second job, Sorry-but...!

Current , Vangelis,P Floyd, Ev., Dist.,

James A. Micalchuk had made Dylan tell him about the dreams not long after they started.  
Knowing something was going on, but having no idea 'What' was beginning to really bother him.  
His mother said that it was perfectly normal, this 'knowing'.  
Said It was just the Irish(which she was) in him coming out.  
And Yes, lots of his relatives were/are a little "fey", having what is commonly referred to as a touch of the sight.  
Talk about a reason to drink!

And that was all she would say about it...ever.

Before he'd gotten to meet his grandmother there had been only lip-biting and dark looks or just... silence.  
Yes that had been his parents response to one of his 'feelings' or 'hunches'.

Grand-Ma Ciara Catherine had taken one look at 15 year-old 'Jimmy', and burst into delighted hand-clapping laughter!  
And called him by his nickname;  
"Now then, 'Lucky'!" she laughed and gave his mother a look that was somewhere between 'I-told-you-so', and 'you-poor-thing'.

James had been only a little puzzled by the look of angry embarrassment and the accompanying blush on his mothers' face.  
The tight-lipped anger he understood, but the blush?

Anatoli and M. Anne Micalchuk were very strict, very 'correct' parents.  
Marie-Elise' parents had been much the same.  
They had both been...no, not running away from, but walking towards a different kind of life for themselves and their children.  
They loved their parents; hers were surprisingly more relaxed and tolerant than his.

His parents had unbent a little by the time he reached his mid teens when his mother(always Mother, never Mom or Ma as his cousins called their mothers) started speaking to her Mother again.  
His father never spoke of his family at all...ever.

James loved his 'Ci-Cat' (key-kat) as she liked to be called.  
She was so lively and cheerful and told wonderfully funny stories-especially when having a 'wee nip or two"!  
It had been after a few perhaps too many 'nips' that she told him (on one of his sneak-overs) about the argument that had separated mother(family) and daughter for all those years.

It had to do with there being little known about this fellow she wanted to marry.  
It was true that he was doing very well indeed from all the properties he owned all over town.

But who were his people?  
Where did he come from?  
Who was he really?

A young woman, a teen-aged daughter...to just trust her words and ...FEELINGS...and with a...foreigner too!?  
And one with such 'high-falootin' ways!

Mary-Anne (who preferred just Anne) had always had 'high-ideas" and liked to put herself above anyone she felt was 'lower-classed' than her family and her particular friends.  
"Fancied herself a 'Lady'!" his grammy Ci-cat laughed as she told him, even though the look on her face and shake of her head said she was still puzzled about where such notions came from.

"Well Mary-Anne (I know I call her Anne to her face, but it's to keep the peace) felt that he was a good catholic, a 'well-mannered man', and with all that money, that ought to be good enough!

I swore I wouldn't go to the wedding...and I didn't(!) more's the pity!  
We've both grown a lot, and my own world is a mite bigger now.  
i still see no good to all that seriousness and stiff-necked formality all the time.  
life's too short Lucky-Jim!"

A very young Dylan had over-heard James talking about some of that conversation with Marie-Elise one evening after a visit with his still somewhat formal paternal grandparents.

Grandma-ma and Grandpa-pa Micalchuk had elected to call him Allen...of course.

It still amazed him that he'd gotten James as a first name, but they'd argued over his middle name(Alistair or Anatoli) right up to his delivery.  
The doctor finally got tired of them and just put A. and left them to it!

The part that stuck with Dylan was 'Gram said the way mom abbreviated the Mary and just used Anne, and the way she loved names that began with an 'A', you'd think she believed that made people more angelic or something.'

James had not even known the boy(Dylan) was in the room at that point in the conversation; till he woke up later screaming for his dad to cut the tail off him before it got too long, and holding his forehead where he was sure horns were growing!

It turned out that Dylan had dreamed Mary Anne, finding him standing over something he'd accidentally broken, staring at him, pointing her finger and saying in a cold loud voice:"Allen Angel-Dylan-Devil!".

Funny what kids latch on to...and for how long...

So it hadn't taken him long to get why all the 'other' men in Marco's life in his son's dreams had names that began with an 'A'.

'Thanks a lot mom!' James thought as he finally headed down stairs to their liquor-cabinet on his way to the garage.

Passing each other in the hallway; he pretending to 'hide' the brandy bottle behind him, she grinning, eyes twinkling.  
The love/amusement/promise in them speeding his heartbeat up, bringing a slight blush to his cheeks.

She giggled, wrapped her arms round his neck and whispered close to his ear:"I love you James A. Micalchuk!"  
He blushed harder, hugged her back with his free arm.  
"You're a dangerous woman Marie-Elise Micalchuk...and I love you too!"

The kiss was short but very sweet.  
A cupping ...and squeezing of one buttock earned him another grin.  
And an even more promising wink!

He wiggled his eye-brows at her as she turned and headed off to her study, turning back briefly to ask; "What should I ...?"  
Yeah, she had always(from the time he'd admitted the truth about his little...'kink' to her) loved and appreciated this part of him too.  
Amazing woman

"Tell him...(he frowned, shrugged, and said what he 'felt' was the correct response) Check 'em!"

Her first call went unanswered, so she decided to do a little paperwork, but questions/worry about what the trouble could be kept intruding on her thoughts.

Finally, she paused, unable to even pretend to concentrate on the papers before her, and laying the pen down and pushing them away, stared off into space.

Speed-dial.  
Voice-mail.

Elise frowned as she glanced over at the framed picture of her son in full hockey-gear.

Anyone seeing her sitting so straight and tall with one fist clenched, such a determined look on her face, might have thought it was a really important case she worked on.  
No one would have guessed that she was in fact praying for her son.

25- b

Current Music:Pink F., Gary Allan, Sarah M., Cheap-trick

*Joyce Meyer-(Battlefield of the Mind)

"You thi.." A grin broke over Dylan's face as he stopped to correct himself.  
Staring at that amazing face letting some of the thousands of times he'd felt himself cheered-up, lifted up, swept away into a totally new state of being/feeling...  
He remembered... the first time he saw it...really saw it, not just a passing flash waiting for Paige on the steps back at DeGrassi, or as he left his house to get away from his sister and her 'little friends'.  
That seemed like a life-time ago now.

He remembers thinking he'd recognized the look in those dark but sparkling eyes. The sudden change in the way he(Marco) moved getting into the car; that almost, but not quite hunching of his shoulders.  
Like...like he really liked what he saw...and had been caught so off-guard that he couldn't completely hide it.

Paige had been wrong about Marco that day, but in true Paige fashion, she'd bounced right back and been thrilled for them.  
Dylan has just realized he'd been so wrapped up in his new 'crush' (he'd thought at first) that he'd passed up an excellent opportunity to razz her for not 'knowing' sooner.

Thinking about that, he smiled, noticing that the tension that had started to build when the pipe burst, was gone. It had risen a few notches with each thing that happened, next the light-bulb blew and the stereo came on FULL-BLAST(by it's self). Then he'd gotten tangled in the wires that had managed to come out from behind his dresser and knocked over all kinds of stuff trying to get loose from them...and to not fall down.

He'd still been standing there, making sure he'd picked up everything and that nothing had spilled; fists clenched and muttering cuss-words when Marco came out of the bathroom...  
And tackled him!

Marco had heard the stereo, Dylan swearing and stumbling round; bottles falling over...more swearing.  
A feeling...like a storm about to break over them...some impending doom... some(evil foreboding*) nameless terrible thing about to happen grew in him...in the air.

'No!' Marco thought, 'You're not stealing this...HIM..from me again. Not now!'

Grabbing a towel and hurriedly wiping the water from his face and hair before heading back into their bedroom he already knew what he'd find.

Yep, there he (Dylan) was, teeth, shoulders, and fists clenched; brows knotted over eyes that alternately darted round the room or returned to moving over the items on the dresser, making sure he hadn't missed anything; totally unaware of Marco watching him.  
One hand is rising towards his mouth, thumb out, ready to chew on when Marco makes his decision about how to handle this...how to...change the beat!

Two things worked when it came to changing the subject/getting Dylan's attention: laughter or sex...well, o.k. but Marco isn't about to try to insert Hockey into this, and in his present mood, Marco somehow just knew that trying to engage his tightly wound-up boyfriend in sex would just stir up more problems, and they'd probably never get to what ever it is that Dylan needs to tell him.  
At least not today!

So...

Marco pounced!  
"What the...!"Dylan began as Marco lept at him, locking his legs round Dylan's waist; his hands sliding down from his shoulders to his ribs.  
And the mad, twisting and squirming of a surprise half-naked tickle-fight/wrestling match was on!

Of course Dylan eventually pinned Marco beneath him.

Marco grinned up at his boyfriend, seeming totally pleased with himself, leaving Dylan off-base and puzzled at the smug grin; alternately staring at him with raised eyebrows and shaking his head as they caught their breath.  
"What was th-" Dylan started, but Marco cut him off.  
Holding Dylan's eyes with the loving/trusting...'you're safe with me'/'You can't fall cause I've got you' look in his(Marco's) eyes...radiating those feelings somehow; making Dylan feel the truth of those things even though the big blond had HIM pinned, he simply said/demanded/gave him the freedom to finally put that way too heavy thing down;

"Tell me."

Dylan stared into Marco's eyes for a moment, nodded once...and did.

"You FEEL... that we should be able to talk about anything! And I...we mostly do! I still don't really 'get' how that's even possible.  
See what you don't know... There are some things that I just ...NEVER talk about...haven't ever told anyone about..  
Lots of things really, but...one really...messed-up thing. It messed ME up. For a long time. Changed the way I saw and felt about myself and how I saw myself dealing with...almost everything to do with my life.  
After that last trip to Spain, being gay seemed like a...a sentence.

Yeah, like a sentence, to a cold, empty, 'get-what-pleasure-you-can-in-the-moment' life.  
No, not life, just...existence.

25-c *StrongatHeart:"Stupid Little E-mails"(!USED WITH PERMISSION!:)!)

(Dylan)

"I was 14 the last time we went to Spain...and...I met...hooked-up with...  
At the time I thought I was in love."  
The smirk and eye-roll that ended with Dylan looking at Marco with such amazement, and glowing adoration made Marco blush, even with the nerves that were tightening his stomach and drying his throat.

He was really...finally... gonna hear about the thing that had made Dylan close himself off from anything that seriously involving feelings and emotions.

When Dylan had kissed him that first time, it had delighted both of them, and shocked them speechless!

But they didn't 'talk' about it.  
Marco usually talked to Ellie about...well...things like that.

It never even occurred to him to wonder who Dylan talked to, or that maybe they should; so many things just...sorta...HAPPENED!

Like the first time Dylan had called him his 'boyfriend'.

They were out at the Mall, at a video-cade with Dylan's friend Baz(short for Basil) one of the few friends that had been around since kindergarten; another Hockey-nut, but still fun to hang out with.

Baz was teasing Dylan that Marco was so much better at the games than he(Dylan) was, that he might dump him and start hanging out with Marco instead!

Kneeling in front of Marco, Baz took the younger boy's hand and said; "How bout it ay? I'll dye my hair blond! Wee'll be vid-game sharks...wanna?"  
His cheesy grin and wiggling eyebrows had cracked Marco up!

Dylan had wrapped an arm round Marco, pulling him in against his side while he worked the game with his other hand; and growled mock-menacingly; "Keep yer paws off my boyfriend, get yer own!"  
Marco was too shocked/thrilled to say anything, but Dylan's friend had no such problem.  
Undaunted, Baz had shot back: "Aww, c'mon. Hey, I know, I'll play ya for him!"

Marco could tell that Baz was pleased with himself for getting Dylan to say it, though he had no idea why.  
And glancing back and forth between them he realized that Dylan knew what was going on; seemed kinda glad, standing a little taller and squeezing Marco a little tighter for a moment.

Later, alone, they didn't talk about it.  
They talked about...just, stuff.  
And teased each other about the games they'd played, who won more who lost and by how much.

Which ended in a tickle-fight...and led to a make-out session.

It had been Marco who'd turned back as he got out of Dylan's car to go into his house; staring into Dylan's eyes he smiled a slow sweet smile and said: "Night...boyfriend."

Dylan had stared back, the 'if you wanna'/'will you?' there for Marco to see and answer, along with some plainly visible doubt/worry.  
Like Marco really might turn him down...

The big blond had leaned over, kissed him, and when they broke apart, smiling, licked his lips. The look in his eyes above those smiling lips delighted Marco as he turned away and headed in.  
Marco would see that look in his thoughts of that moment, and in his dreams. It never occurred to him(Marco) that there might have been a little too much...intensity there for just becoming someones designated other.

What Marco thought about was how Dylan seemed to be just as delighted/scared-speechless as he was...

But, that had to be...well it had been pretty dark by then...  
No way.

A few weeks after that Dylan had told him he loved him.

Then, one day he'd gotten 'The Poem'... *

Caring was never something I did  
Until I had someone to care about  
Hope was never something I had  
Until I had someone to vanquish my doubt  
Forever was never something that mattered  
Until I had a reason to keep going on  
Fear was something that never left me  
Until thanks to someone it was gone  
Love at first sight I never believed  
Until the day I knew it was true  
Loving deeply seemed beyond me  
Until the day I met you

Marco had L-O-V-E-D it!Had almost cried right there at the lunch table, in front of Spinner and the rest of the gang.  
But reading it over later, alone in his room... he wondered...

Dylan...hopeless...afraid?

But then there were all those subject changes...the odd outbursts of anger at almost ...nothing...just to distract him from...  
Marco had no idea, could almost forget things like that had ever happened, that there were still so many unknowns between them.

This was more like a dark cloud, you turn on the lights inside and you can forget it's there,  
Till something knocks the lights out.


	26. Chapter 26

the Dream...

**kdoc27** June 19th, 14:59

Sorry, I have the last part of 25, but you wouldn't believe what I found out was misssing!?

So. Now chapt4er 5 is now on the end of 4 and I am almost out of . time...AGAIN! #&*! I'm thinking on...Sunday!

SORRY! :(


End file.
